Three Times
by morbid bookworm
Summary: MAJOR BoO SPOILERS! LIKE, A LOT A LOT A LOT OF SPOILERS! Three times Will Solace let Nico di Angelo get away and the first time he didn't. And what came from that. Three one-shots for Soldangelo.
1. Three Years

**May I first say congratulations to all you who shipped Soldangelo before it was canon. I don't know why I didn't see this coming. And yes, I spelled their ship name wrong, because when I say it out loud I always accidentally slip a D in there. **

**I have a headcannon where Will (so cute!) has been crushing on Nico since way before Nico even knew he existed. This fic embodies that.**

**When I write this ship, I will probably make Nico a little mean. I think that Will might be good at being friends, but his version of expressing romantic feelings is to grab someone's hands and tell them he just delivered a half goat baby. Nico's going to have to step up at some point. And just because Will is two years older and is passionate about making sure Nico's okay does **_**not**_** mean he is in charge of the relationship. Nico is no one's shota.**

**I've been working on this since BoO came out, and it's finally done! The first chapter, anyway. There will be at least two more. This one is Will's POV for the three main times he saw Nico before they officially met, and then what happened in those awesome little gay ship scenes Uncle Rick slipped in there for us, and then a little after that. The next chapter is the three days in the infirmary, and the one after that is what happened next in my own little non-canon world.**

**Uncle Rick needs to do another thing like the Demigod Diaries and give us some flashforwards. There were a a serious lack of percabeth scenes! Although the ones that were there were just too wonderful.I mean, DID YOU SEE WHAT PERCY DID WITH THAT KISS RIGHT WHERE THEIR PARENTS STARTED FIGHTING!? Gods percabeth is too PERFECT.**

**Jason has glasses and the title **_**pontificus maximus**_**. He is slightly less stupid.**

**The friendship between all the girls is so wonderful! Piper and Annabeth especially.**

**The bromance between Reyna and Nico very nearly killed me it was so beautiful. Nico has way too many big brothers and sisters. Poor Will. I mean, did you see that high five!? Quite possibly my favorite part in the whole book.**

**This was beta'd by the wonderful and amazing AbbieDabbie. To the hours of fangirling. Cheers, darling!**

**I don't own anything! But how I wish I did.**

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><p><strong>First time<strong>

* * *

><p>Unfortunately for almost everyone involved, the first time Will Solace laid eyes on Nico di Angelo, he was about to shoot a <em>dracaenae <em>in the head.

It was during the first real battle Camp Half-Blood had seen in a long time; an invasion through the Labyrinth, courtesy of Lord Cuckoo Head of Time himself, Kronos. Every demigod over thirteen was in armor and fighting. Will had stayed in the back with the other archers, but he'd soon realized he wasn't doing much good. When he'd seen Castor, one of Dionysus' kids and a frequent volunteer at the infirmary, go down from a blow to the head, Will had abandoned the high ground and dove into the fray.

And ended up arrow to trident with a _dracaenae_.

Now, for an average eighth grader, Will wasn't _that_ bad an archer. He did, after all, occasionally hit the target. Compared to most of his siblings, however, he shot like crap. Both Lee Fletcher and Michael Yew were archery prodigies, and all Kayla needed to do to be able to play an instrument was to pick it up. Will could play the guitar, the trumpet and the lyre (a requirement for everyone in Cabin Eight) and had perfect pitch, never mind that his voice was soawfully average it was just embarassing. Not to mention he did a mean super sonic whistle. He also liked poetry quite a lot, even if he was terrible at writing it. But his real talents lay in healing, and that wasn't much use in the heat of battle.

When a freaky snake woman is about to spear you with a giant fork, it's a really bad time to get distracted. And yet, to his horror, when Will suddenly caught a flash of darkness in his peripheral vision, he found himself turning around to see what it was.

In some part of Will's brain, birds started chirping, angels started singing and the sun came out from behind the clouds to shine down on a meadow of flowers where cute baby animals were frolicking together in the sunshine.

The rest of his brain wanted to slap the stupid hormonal teenager right out of him.

The dark flash was a kid. He had to be at least a couple years younger than Will himself and was small and bony, dressed all in loose black clothes with a sword dark as night. He was also doing some _serious_ damage to every unfortunate monster or enemy demigod who happened to be in his vicinity.

This wasn't the first time Will had wished he could trade the blessing of bandaging and stitches for just a little bit better aim, but when his bow string suddenly snapped and whacked him in the face, causing his arrow to veer wildly off course, completely bypassing the _dracaenae_ in front of him and almost hitting Nyssa in the foot, he just wished he hadn't been blessed with anything at all. At least then he would have an excuse to never ever set foot outside his cabin ever again and run the risk of coming face to face with the doomy gloomy eleven year old who had somehow managed to catch his eye from across the battle field.

The _dracaenae _thrust her trident towards Will's chest. He rolled out of the way, and someone came up from behind and stuck a knife in her throat. The snake lady dissolved instantly into yellow dust.

Not believing his luck, Will scrambled to his feet and looked around. The kid he had seen before was wading through the monsters like he was taking a stroll through the park, slashing his black sword through the hordes and absorbing their life essence until nothing was left. His expression was stoic and unreadable, almost bored, but his eyes burned with a manic fire as he desecrated the monsters, like they were nothing but pathetic bugs that had the misfortune to get in his way.

Will just kind of wanted to stand there and gape at him for awhile, but a hell hound bounded towards him and by the time he got away, the kid was gone.

* * *

><p>In the aftermath of the battle, the entire Apollo cabin was confined to the infirmary. Even though they were still reeling from Lee Fletcher, Fiona Jarvis and Kasey Crilling's deaths, Cabin Eight still had a duty to the wounded. Will used up thirty Ace bandages, gave a couple hundred stitches, splinted fourteen broken bones - including all four of Chiron's legs - and watched ten people die because not even the food and medicine of the gods could help them, before Kayla told him to take a break.<p>

Will ignored her and kept going. But each time the infirmary door opened he looked up, half hopeful and half terrified that the next person who came in would be the dark haired boy he had seen.

The kid never appeared.

* * *

><p><strong>Second Time<strong>

* * *

><p>Will had seen the kid several times in the Battle of Manhattan. He had seen him ride a hell hound into battle dressed in pitch black skull armor, seen him face off with the King of the Titans, seen him raise an army of the dead and cut through another army of monsters while trying to protect the mortals.<p>

But that had all been from a distance. The only time he had been close enough to go up to him was afterwards, when he caught sight of him talking with Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase. Will must have been only ten feet away from them, helping load the injured into the camp vans.

Without the skull helmet, Will had been able to see the boy's deep-set eyes and the urgent flutter of his hands as he said something to the other two.

And then they flew away.

Will hadn't had time to even think about going up to him.

Now, seated at his new place at the Ping Pong table with the other senior counselors, (in Michael's place, in Lee's) he felt like he was just realizing how young the kid really was.

Percy had just burst in yelling, "Grover, you better not have eaten all the donuts!" He was grinning wildly and hand in hand with Annabeth.

Trailing behind them, dressed from head to toe in black was the kid himself. He did not appear to be sulking exactly, but he definitely didn't look thrilled to be there.

"So guys, this is Nico," Percy said, cheerfully oblivious to the dark brooding cloud that hung over the kid's head. "Son of Hades. He's the one who came with the freaky skeleton army and saved all our sorry asses. Nico, senior counselors. Counselors, Nico di Angelo."

_Nico di Angelo._

_Nico._

It wasn't the first time he'd heard the name, but it was the first time he'd associated with his kid.

All the counselors around the table muttered hi or gave a little wave. Nico just glared at the floor. Percy went around and introduced everyone. Nico refused to meet anyone's eye.

Next to Percy the boy looked so small and skinny and pale, and more childishly human than Will had ever seen him. He was at least a head shorter than the son of Poseidon, and with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his aviator jacket and hunched shoulders it was as if he was trying to appear even smaller.

It occurred to Will that he could say something, say hello, maybe ask him to sit down in the empty seat next to him.

He almost did it.

But then Percy was asking if he was 'ever going to sit his butt down', and Nico gave him such a dark look, like he was serious considering commanding the earth to swallow him up, and said very stiffly, "I prefer to stand, thank you."

So cold.

Will slumped back in his chair and fiddled with the Ace bandages he had wrapped around his hands and forearms, feeling like he had been the one shot down.

The meeting passed by in a daze. Percy spoke about how they were going to building more cabins recognizing the minor gods, but Will couldn't concentrate. He smiled and replied when someone spoke to him directly, but the rest of the time he was busy trying to look at Nico out of the corner of his eye.

It took him a few seconds to realize when the meeting was over. Quickly he scrambled to his feet and looked around. Nico was already walking away. Will started towards him, unsure what he was going to do (say hi, or just make eye contact?) but before he could do anything, the kid dissolved into shadows right before his eyes, leaving Will with nothing but an outstretched hand clutching air and Nico's name on his lips.

* * *

><p>Will found himself becoming rather fond of black. Back at his mom's place in Florida, he went shopping, buying a grand total of two shirts – one short sleeved, one long sleeved – one pair of sweat pants and three pairs of socks, all in black.<p>

His siblings would no doubt disapprove - Apollo kids were known for their colorful ensembles, second only to the Aphrodite Cabin's. It wasn't like Will didn't like his jeans and camp tee-shirts, or his cargo shorts and brightly colored tank tops anymore. He was just learning to appreciate a new color.

And it happened to be a very comfortable color. Very simple, very calming. It was . . . nice. His sibling looked at him like he was insane, but really, it was just a shirt. If he had been in anyone other than Apollo's child, no one would have even noticed. He didn't wear them every day, he didn't start praising the powers of darkness.

It was just a shirt . . . right?

* * *

><p><strong>Third Time<strong>

* * *

><p>Usually, when someone had a crush it was on someone nearby, someone who went to their school, who worked at their coffee shop. They would see them once, think they're cute, sense an attraction. Then they would see them again and again, torture themselves with the possibilities, gather information on the object of their affection, observe them at every opportunity.<p>

Will did not have this problem.

For one thing, he estimated Nico came to camp maybe two to four times a month. And usually Will went back to his mom's during the school year, which meant about eight months out of the year, even those few times weren't worth anything.

And what about those days Nico came, but he just didn't see the kid? Did it still count as cowardice if he didn't even know the opportunity was passing by? If Nico was there, and Will just wasn't aware of it, could he forgive himself for not making conversation?

Sometimes he wondered what he would do if presented with the perfect opportunity. Would he be able to speak normally, or would he just stare and gape until Nico realized he was mentally incompetent and shadow traveled somewhere far away, as he seemed so very apt to do?

Will was a very friendly person. He was nice to everybody, even Clarisse, and people liked him. Came to him for help. Asked his opinion. But somehow, Will thought, even if he _did_ manage to speak to Nico like a normal person, it wouldn't end well. Nico didn't seem to be interested in _people_, much less dating them, much less dating a guy. Will was fifteen. Disregarding the fact that the kid was two years younger than him, Will had had his fair share of crushes before.

But Nico was different. He wasn't like Danny Grosling from the Demeter Cabin, or Jeremy Tichus, the unclaimed boy from Hermes, and especially not like Sarah Vatsie from Athena, (though he wasn't sure if that one counted,) or anybody else he'd ever maybe been attracted to.

Will knew nothing about Nico. He didn't think he'd even seen him enough to have developed a proper crush. Nico seemed to be on a different plane of existence than everyone else, somewhere Will wasn't allowed. He was the son of one of the elder gods, Prince of the Underworld, King of Ghosts. No matter how human he appeared up close, there was always a sense of power lurking under the surface. Just like with Percy, minus the son of the sea god's dorky personality. The kid may have been a grouch, but he was also very refined.

Nico was . . . there was no proper way to say it.

_Untouchable_.

And Will didn't have a chance with him.

This was proved especially on the day Will was asked (read; begged) by his sister Kayla to help her ask out Jake Mason. Also know as, 'Will Solace's failed attempt at being a Love Doctor.'

All he had to do, Kayla told him, was deliver the poem she had written to Nyssa, who would then give it Jake. Will wondered why Kayla couldn't just give the poem to Jake herself, but he didn't say anything.

"_Love makes us brave, love makes us cowards," _he thought, waving to Travis as he dashed by, Katie hot on his heels.

"My roses!" she shrieked at him. "A hot glue gun and glittery raccoons, really Stoll!? What are you, five?"

Travis just laughed and ran a little faster.

Will shook his head. Love made people idiots. Walking towards the forges with Kayla's poem in his pocket, Will's thought's strayed, as they sometimes did in odd moments, to Nico di Angelo.

If he was ever in this situation with Nico . . . ?

Somehow he couldn't imagine the kid being too fond of flowers or poems. How would Will even get them to him? He didn't come around enough for leaving them in his cabin to work. Who were his friends? Percy, Annabeth, Rachel . . . Those were the people he occasionally interacted with, but Will didn't know anything about friends.

He was so close; halfway between the arena and the armory when he saw him. Walking alone, always by himself, black clothes, black hair; black mood, black sword dragging by his side.

Will froze and stared so hard his eyes hurt, wondering if he would ever be able to think rationally again.

Then he blinked and Nico di Angelo was gone.

Dazed, he didn't hear the person coming up behind him until Jake tapped him on the shoulder.

"You okay, dude?" he asked concernedly. Jake was still in a wheelchair, but it looked like his hands were healed. They were bandage free and covered in grease. "Seriously, man. You're freaking me out. You look like you've seen a ghost!"

Will wanted to laugh. He was a little worried that if he did, he would end up crying.

Instead he just muttered something and stumbled back to his cabin, completely forgetting Kayla's request.

She looked at him in confusion when he handed her back the poem.

He just shook his head.

* * *

><p>That night he lay awake in his bunk while everyone else was asleep and wondered if he had really seen Nico at all. Furious with himself, he tore a sheet out of one of Kayla's empty songwriting notebooks. He had never been even halfway decent at poetry, but that night he filled up both sides of the page, cramming as many words as he could into each college rule line until he fell asleep.<p>

When he woke up, what he had written the night before didn't make any sense. He puzzled over every phrase and wording, trying to decipher the half asleep scribbles. Eventually he gave up, attributing it to the mad ramblings of three o clock in the morning.

He didn't throw it out, though. Just crumpled it up and shoved it under his pillow, hoping someday he could forget it existed.

* * *

><p><em>Love makes us brave, love makes us cowards,<em>

_Love makes us fools._

_Love is patient, love is kind,_

_Love means slowly losing your mind._

* * *

><p><strong>The First Time All Over Again<strong>

* * *

><p>Will was happy. From the second Nico di Angelo stumbled into existence on Half-Blood Hill in a strange, brightly colored Hawaiian shirt Will had never seen him wear before and nearly took his head off, Will had felt more <em>okay<em> than he had since the Titan War started.

Because, you see, Will had made a decision. No more chances. He didn't care if he dated the son of Hades or not. All right, he did, but that wasn't the point.

The point was that Nico was _there_, talking with Will, arguing with him, insulting his hair, his wardrobe and just about everything else, wonderfully solid and there and _alive_. He hadn't appeared at camp since the Argo II set out, and Will had no idea what he had been doing all that time, but he knew just from touching his hands, (touching his hands! The thrill if it kept him grinning even as he recalled the traumatizing ordeal of delivering a satyr baby – which made Nico smile; Will didn't think he'd ever been so happy,) that if he made one misstep he would fade away forever.

Chances were for his own love life, _not_ Nico's life.

So he lay down the law. No shadow traveling. No raising the dead. No underworld magic-darkness doohickery. _Doctor's orders_.

He was on a roll. They distracted the Roman's from the onagers, which resulted in Will finally doing something he was good at – running, (despite the last three sleepless nights he suddenly felt full of energy) Nico doing some serious ass kicking on his behalf, (even without his powers the kid was unbelievable,) a minor hitch when Nico _did_ use his powers and nearly collapsed, (Will would never forgive himself for enjoying the few moment when the kid actually needed his support,) another argument, getting to use his supersonic whistle, and getting to watch Nico stand up to Octavian and the other Roman's with his quiet, determined, slightly terrifying and seemingly endless strength.

And then Nico announced he was leaving.

Both camps.

_For good._

Will felt like someone had punched a hole in his stomach, slowly stretched it apart and was pulling all his organs out with ice cold pliers.

He suddenly realized how important those few glimpses each month had become. For them to be taken away, for Nico to be just _gone_, like he'd never existed . . . Gods, it pissed Will off, but it also opened a deep dark hole in his heart he was afraid of falling into. And then that limp, over cooked noodle-like sorry excuse for a son of Apollo had the _audacity_ to try and _buy_ Nico's loyalties. (As if Nico could ever be bought. He would do exactly what he liked and no one, especially not Will would be able to stop him.)

And the look on Nico's face . . . Will knew what he was thinking. He was planning on killing Octavian, been planning on killing him before he'd even come to the battlefield. And that was the only way, wasn't it? Octavian was crazy; the only way he'd ever stop was if someone made him.

Will couldn't let him do it.

If anyone made a move towards the _augur _they wouldn't get out of there without the entire Roman army attacking them first. Not even Nico could survive that, not in his condition. It was wanted to take the kid by his shoulders and shake some sense into him. He wanted to yell at him, say, _"Are you really so miserable that you'd let yourself die? Do you really think your life and _his_ are worth the same?"_

He could imagine what Nico would say. He'd look up at him with those deep dark eyes that made Will feel like a child who didn't understand the sacrifices grownups had to make.

"_No two souls are worth the same,"_ he would say. _"But _my life_ is worth far less than _his death_."_

Thankfully, Octavian, he could get angry at. No one disrespected Apollo's Cabin like that and didn't get some serious sass in the face.

Lucky for Octavian the onagers went off before Will got started on his mother.

And then came the Greeks. Along with another chance to use his awesome taxicab whistle.

And then Nico was smiling so widely Will had to smile too, before he even knew what there was to smile about.

And then the Athena Parthenos was coming down from the sky like an angel on the wings of a cavalry of pegasi and a demigod girl Will had never seen before was yelling at them to work together.

And then Nico was striding forward to tell everyone they were being idiots with such authority it gave Will shivers . . .

And then, of course, the world ended.

* * *

><p>For the next ten minutes or so, Will stood back with Octavian and let everybody else to the work.<p>

He wasn't being lazy. He had a sword, but he wanted to avoid using it at all possible. If he was bad at archery, he _sucked_ at sword fighting. He'd been on a re-con mission for the gods sakes. He hadn't thought he would have to do much fighting.

He was also rather busy watching Nico fight, partly because he wanted to make sure he didn't use his powers and partly because the kid was an absolute _demon_.

Watching Nico di Angelo fight should have been a religious experience. Will could have stood there until Gaea rose and the world exploded, watching Nico slash his way through the dirt monsters, but as usual, Octavian ruined it.

Will turned around as soon as he heard Latin cussing. Octavian was furiously trying to reload the nearest onager.

"Great Apollo, don't you know when to give up!?" growled Will, drawing his sword nervously. He was really, _really_ bad at sword fighting.

"Stay back, _graceus_ filth," Octavian spat, grabbing an explosive and holding it threateningly over a match. "Or else we both go up in flames!"

Will's hand tightened on his sword. Octavian had a gleam in his eyes that made Will quite certain he was not in his right mind, and he definitely didn't want to mess with a crazy guy who had a lit match hovering near a bunch of explosives.

_Dammit_.

"Stay there!" Will told Octavian, quite unnecessarily. He had lost sight of Nico, and now he dove into the chaos to find him. Which he did, fighting next to Jason Grace, who Will hadn't even seen come in.

It just took one word to get the manic fire back in Nico's eyes. They ran back towards the onagers as quickly as they could, pausing only to gape as Crazy Dirt Lady got carted off by Happy the Dragon.

Will hated Octavian. He really, really did. Octavian was Gaea's instrument through and through even if he didn't know it. He was the reason all this was happening.

Will saw Octavian's robes tangled in the onager trigger. So did Nico, so did Michael Kahale.

If he hated Octavian so much, why did he try to save him?

Why was he the only one who couldn't do what needed to be done? It cracked open his own little Pandora's Pathos where his fears lay. Why was he so weak? Why couldn't he keep people from being hurt instead of just trying to patch up those who already were? Why did he sometimes want to tear the world down, but he only had the power to heal?

It was only Nico holding him back. Nico's soft voice as he said Will's name, his first name, for the first time. And when Will looked back at him in disbelief Nico had looked so old, older than Will had ever seen him, like a great weight had settled back onto its familiar place on his shoulders.

Will didn't look at Octavian when the onager went off. He didn't watch the fiery comet as it soared into the sky and disappeared behind the storm clouds.

Will's eyes were only on Nico, and he wondered how such a powerful demigod, such an untouchable prince, such a child, could have an expression like that, with such sad, wise eyes.

* * *

><p>Will went less than forty eight hours before he cracked. He spent the whole time going back and forth between his cabin and the infirmary, working side by side and treating people he'd never even met before, and wondering when the heck Nico was planning on coming and seeing him. He would, wouldn't he? He'd just disappeared after Octavian had blown himself sky high, and Will hadn't seen him since. I mean sure, Leo Valdez and twenty other people had died and the whole RomanGreek situation was giving everyone a headache, but that didn't give him the right to just leave Will hanging like that.

Will wanted to see Nico. He wanted to make sure he was okay. He wanted to make sure he hadn't already left camp and then smack the idea right out of his head.

Gods he needed to talk to that kid. Talking to him was so much easier than thinking about him, and ten times easier than just sitting there and worrying.

His father Apollo must have smiled down on his pathetic love life, because he finally, _finally_ caught sight of him out his cabin window. Will was out the door in less than a second, not even bothering to take of his green surgeon's shirt.

Nico was talking to Jason Grace.

Again.

Grrr.

That may or may not have contributed to Will's scowl and general annoyance while talking to the kid, but all was forgiven when he got Nico to agree to _three days_ in the infirmary. Three days in which he would have the son of Hades right under his nose, unable to go off somewhere and get himself melted into a puddle of Underworld goo. He felt like the next few days suddenly held endless possibilities.

"_I'll be right back. Promise on the River Styx and everything."_

Will tapped his foot impatiently, watching with narrowed eyes as Nico went over to Percy and Annabeth, (his friends, Will reminded himself,) and spoke to them. He couldn't hear what they were talking about, but Percy suddenly went from ecstatic to gob smacked, and Annabeth looked like she wanted to laugh. Nico grinned and high fived her. He started back towards Will, leaving Percy and Annabeth to argue happily by the hearth.

"So, what was that about?" asked Will.

Nico glanced up at him as if considering.

"Just some unfinished business," he said finally.

Will crossed his arms grumpily. "Fine. Don't tell me."

They left the wonky circle of cabins and walked towards the infirmary. Will felt like he was a security guard escorting a prisoner to his cell, except of course for the fact that if it came a fight he was one hundred and ten percent positive he would lose. He could feel the kid's eyes boring into the side of his head, and while normally he might not mind Nico's attention, positive _or_ negative, it was making his ears burn.

The burning spread from his ears, down his neck and across his face. It felt like his blood was boiling. He didn't turn around. Gods this was pitiful. Just having Nico look at him was making him . . . well, with anybody else it might have made him angry or uncomfortable or annoyed.

Nico was a different case entirely.

Still, Will could feel the kid's displeasure growing over his head like a rain cloud. He looked over at Nico and saw he was glowering at him like he had insulted his mother. Will gave him a sheepish grin. His glower deepened.

"Why aren't you afraid of me?"

That knocked the burning right out of him. He looked at Nico in confusion.

Nico looked deadly serious.

"And please, do not say it is because I cannot use my powers right now. That is a terrible excuse."

Will wondered distractedly if Nico noticed that the more upset he got, the more polite his speech became.

"_Excuse me, good sir, would you please fuck off?"_

"Um . . ." Will swallowed, floundering for an answer. Being scared of Nico had never really occurred to him.

It wasn't like he didn't know the kid was perfectly capable of killing him and throwing his soul to the harpies. He wasn't under the delusion that Nico was too good a person to hurt anybody. He knew that betting on his kind and considerate nature would probably get him killed. It was just . . .

"_If you gotta choose a way to go,"_ thought Will.

He thought a lot of things about the son of Hades. If he had to describe Nico di Angelo with words, the first to cross his mind would be **powerful**, annoying, _merciless_**, dark**, _childish_, quiet, **gloomy**, _wise_, maniac, **cool**, alone, _skinny_, **brooding**, eloquent, **determined**, _ghost-like_, stoic, _transient_, **run-down**, worrisome, _awe-inspiring_, crazy, **dense**, pitiless, _pale_, ridiculous, **infuriating**, _unhealthy_, **frustrating**, mysterious, _confusing_, rough, **anti-social**, _fleeting_, intelligent, _young_, **ruthless**, independent, _ephemeral_, **human**, charismatic, _tired_, **strong**, mature, _insane_, provoking, _sacrificing_, **suicidal**, _amazing_, **upsetting**, enigmatic, **brave**, _unhappy_ and very, very interesting.

But scary?

No.

There was definitely something very . . . _thrilling _about being around him. Whether it was his underworldly powers or just the kid himself, Will couldn't ignore how it made him feel.

"You . . ." he swallowed dryly. "You really are . . . _something else_."

"W-what?" The words seemed to knock the glower out of Nico's expression. It was replaced with a soft sort of shock, and Will had to blink several times before he could tear himself away from the kid's confusion.

"Uh, nothing," he said quickly. "Oh, look, we're here."

Luckily the infirmary had remained untouched by the war. Will hustled Nico past beds full of injured demigods and healers, and set him up in the 'long term stay' wing where it was quieter and he could give Nico some privacy and a large window full of sunlight. Nico refused point-blank to wear a hospital gown and Will conceded gracefully on this small point, with the condition that he wasn't allowed to wear his Stygian iron sword or shoes around the infirmary. Nico slipped his sword under his pillow and curled up on top of the sheets like a cat. He was asleep almost instantly.

Will fidgeted around for another ten minutes, wanting to talk more, or do the routine check up that was necessary for their insurance, or, or, or. Finally he just draped a blanket over the kid's shoulders, resisted the urge to tuck him in and left to check on his other patients, feeling annoyed with Nico for being so calm and unaffected, and annoyed with himself for being annoyed.

* * *

><p>Will was just finishing a rather disgusting bit of quickie surgery on a son of Mars whose leg had swollen to twice its size with puss from an infected gash on his thigh, when he felt it. Two seconds later he burst into the 'long term stay' wing just in time to see Nico fall back onto the bed.<p>

"Are you insane!?" he cried, rushing forward and trying to push him back down. "You know what? Forget what I said earlier. You are an idiot!"

Nico slapped his hands away smartly. "Stop freaking out, Solace. I'm . . . fine."

He didn't look fine. The little color that had come back to his face was gone; he looked one stiff wind away from dissolving completely. When Will tried to take his pulse, his fingers passed right through his wrist.

Will's stomach contorted. "Nico . . ."

"Hades, Solace. You look like you've seen a ghost." Will looked up at Nico and was shocked at the tiny smile playing about his lips. It did something to his heart that felt like an arrhythmia.

"Here. Look." Nico lifted his arm so the sunlight landed directly on it. "See? I'm fine."

Will touched his wrist; Nico tensed, but let him. This time his skin felt cool and dry, and very much solid.

Nico's wrist was thin and delicate. The blue venus veins were starkly visible under thin white skin. When Will found his pulse it was so faint it took him twice as long as usual to count because he kept loosing track of it. It was faster than he would have expected from someone who walked around half dead.

"You're an idiot," he repeated. "Why would you try to shadow-travel after I _specifically_ told you-"

"Sorry," Nico interrupted, yawning sleepily. "Just forgot."

"Forgot," Will muttered, gripping his wrist tightly. "Right. How convenient, that you can just _forget_ that any tiny little thing might tip you over the edge and send you spiraling into oblivion-"

"Not that," Nico interrupted again. "Hazel. She was asleep when I left. She won't know where I am. I just wanted to-"

"_I_ can tell her where you are!" This time Will was the one interrupting. "Gods, Nico, what do you think I'm here for? To watch you kill yourself out of stupidity? Just . . . just . . . Gods, you're just . . . ugh!"

He threw his hands up in exasperation. Nico didn't say anything and Will stomped away. He was back a second later with a little black bag, from which he pulled a professional looking stethoscope.

"Sit up and lift up your shirt," he said stiffly.

Nico eyed the stethoscope warily. "What is that?"

"Relax, jeez. I got my online medical degree when I was twelve, okay? You're in good hands."

Nico looked at him suspiciously. "Online?"

"Great Apollo. Would you just get over here?"

Will sat on a stool next to the bed and checked his heart, his mouth, his eyes, his ears and his reflexes. He tried to do it without touching Nico as much as he could because he knew he didn't like it, but sometimes he forgot and the kid would stiffen up like Will was about to shoot him.

After he put away his instruments in the little black bag, he jotted down a few notes in the patient file, muttering to himself.

"Bad. Bad but not terrible. Hmph."

Nico yawned again. He had curled back up into a ball, his knees pressed against his chest, his head resting on one hand and the other tucked under his elbow.

"Are you still tired?" Will looked at him with concern.

"Mmm. What time is it?" Nico asked.

"About noon." Will was frowning. Nico thought it made him look older. "Didn't you get any sleep last night?"

"I don't like to sleep in the dark," Nico said. "Sunlight keeps away the nightmares."

He said it so frankly.

There was quite a lot Will wanted to say (or shout) on that matter, but Nico looked like he was already half asleep and there was still something Will wanted to talk about.

"Nico?" He leaned his elbows on the bed and propped his chin up on his hands.

"Hmm?"

"You . . . I'm sorry."

Nico opened one eye and looked at him guardedly. "Why?"

"Because I . . . with Octavian. I shouldn't have gotten you."

Nico's voice went cold as an Arctic winter. "I do not regret what I did, Solace. Whether I killed Gaia or Leo or both, I would do it again every time. Octavian had to die. That was what had to hap-"

"I can't fight!" Will blurted. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes so he didn't have to look at Nico's expression. "I can't . . . fight."

There was a moment of silence. Finally Nico said, "I know."

Will looked up. "What do you mean 'you know'?"

"In the Battle of Manhattan you spent the entire time unnecessarily risking your life for the injured on the battlefield. You walk around with a bow, but you never seem to remember it's there. You would obviously rather run around like a headless chicken than use a sword properly. When you do hold a weapon, your grip and stance is all wrong. I will be blunt, Solace. You must really suck."

"That's . . . true, but not what I meant." Will looked down at his hands. "I'm not really _gifted_ in anything but healing. That's great when I actually want to heal someone, but when all I want to do it stab someone in the gut . . . I just can't."

He hated the look on Nico's face.

"Don't look at me like that!" Will snapped, standing up in agitation. "It's not some heroic refusal to hurt someone. I physically can't. If you held a sword to my throat and I had one at your ribs, and I tried to kill you before you killed me . . . well, I wouldn't be able to! Whenever I try, it's like my whole body locks up and I can't move! And then it's like I'm having a panic attack because there's all this fear and I can't stop shaking, so I just . . . I just can't. So that's why . . . that's why I'm sorry. I was right there. I was right next to Octavian, and I didn't do anything. I shouldn't have had to come and get you. It wasn't fair to make you be the one to . . . I should have been able to do it myself. Sorry."

Nico just looked at him, and Will couldn't read the expression in his dark eyes. The midday sun fell across his bed and caught on his pale skin and in the shadows under his eyes, and Will suddenly realized that in that moment, Nico was quite beautiful. All his darkness and tension seemed to be temporarily balanced with sleepiness and sunlight. He had never been obviously attractive, and the words Will would use to describe him physically would not be the usual positive ones, but now he quite lived up to his surname.

_Of the Angels._

It could have been the lack of stress, or the lighting, or the fact that Will was falling hopelessly in love with him, but for a second he had another word to describe the son of Hades. Angelic.

Then Nico snorted and the moment was gone, dead and buried. The kid looked like death, as usual, and he was glaring at Will as if he had personally insulted him.

"You are a fool, Will Solace," he said finally.

"_Yeah,"_ Will thought. _"I know."_

"To be perfectly candid, you are a naïve idiot who is entirely too trusting and has absolutely no sense of self preservation. If you did, you would not dare stand there before me and complain about not being able to hurt someone. Your taste in clothing is ridiculous at best, and any physical attributes are overshadowed by your complete lack of demeanor."

Nico took a deep breath and continued.

"I don't pity you, Solace. Healing, whether a gift or a curse, is what the gods have given you, and you are just going to have to get over it. If you don't want to heal people anymore, then just do nothing. I certainly don't care. But it's a pointless practice to condemn yourself for what you cannot control. So you can't choose to cause someone harm. Stop whining and leave murder to those who have experience in such matters."

For once in his life, Will Solace could not think of anything to say. Nico yawned again and rubbed his eyes tiredly. It made him look like a little kid.

"Besides. You don't need to be able to fight." His eyelids fluttered shut. "I can protect you."

Will gaped at him as heat flooded his face, but Nico was asleep before he got his voice back.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh Nico. This just my little headcannon, mind you. I like how it kind of evens things out between them. Review, pretty please with Nico on top?<strong>


	2. Three Days: First Day

**THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU! I've gotten so many favorites and follows and reviews! Thank you to everyone who read this and liked it!**

**Okay, I just read that Uncle Rick considers Will to be Nico's peer. I'm not sure if that means two years isn't that big of an age difference, (which it isn't – my parents are eighteen years apart and they've been happily married for like seventeen years and have three and a half problem children) or he means that Will is fourteen too, which I like much better. In the first chapter, the age difference was kind of important, so I'm not going to take it out, but from now on they're both fourteen. 'kay?**

**Look at my wonderful/adorable/amazing cover! I made it myself (with a little help from my dad, who braved the hated family computer just to get them together in the picture) and I have to say, I am quite impressed with my own ingenuity. Viria did the picture of Nico (she does the best drawings EVER, even if I don't always agree with her ships) and I don't know who did Will. It looks like one of Viria's, but the name was practically unreadable, and didn't look like hers. Props to whoever did draw it! I really wanted you guys to see this picture of Will, because this is usually how I imagine him looking, and it's one of the few that have him looking fourteen and not just some ridiculously buff, blonde guy.**

**Okay, so my plan was that this whole story would be in three chapters. This second chapter was supposed to bee a bunch of oneshots from the three days they spent together in the infirmary. Then I finished it and saw the little pg37 at the bottom . . .**

**So I'm splitting this into three parts, one for each day. Each day has three oneshots. (Are you sensing a theme here?) This is the first day. And the next chapter is going to take awhile, so this will give you something to look forward to while that's going on.**

**I would also like to add that it is probable that my time management wasn't perfect. Please just treat each one-shot as its own thing, otherwise you might find yourself wondering how they managed to do all that in just a day.**

**Also, you will notice the whole sleeping, nocturnal thing I going on with Nico . . . please remember that this is my headcannon, and I just really like sleepy Nico.**

**They end up talking about a lot of things during these three days, but I tried not to go into detail about the heavier stuff, and I don't think I even mentioned Tartarus, because I didn't want it to be like, "Ooh, hot guy, *spills all darkest secrets and traumas and immediately trust each other*"**

**Just no.**

**My headcannon Nico is a little mean, and I try to make him as strong and independent as I think he is . . . I mentioned that before, but I thought it might be worth repeating. **

**And I think of him as being completely, 100% over Percy. I think the only reason that crush got so out of hand, was because for a long time, Percy was the closest thing Nico had to someone he could love. Now he has a sister, lots of friends and someone he can completely love. Eventually. Honestly, these kids . . . Anyway, Percy is now right where he belongs, with Annabeth on the top of the list of close friends/meddling cousins.**

**THE GODS ARE GREEK. They have been sleeping around with members of the same sex for longer than sexuality has been classified as such. You think the demigods are all that different? Nico's just being dense. (Bi is bisexual, and pan is pansexual, which means you're attracted to anyone, regardless of gender or sexuality. Just in case anyone didn't know.)**

**_Ki ego_**** means Me Too in Greek. Keep that in mind.**

**There ends up being some medical stuff in here. I watch a lot of House MD. For those of you who don't know, Capillaries are the tiny, thinner than a strand of hair blood vessels that make up most of our flesh. The temperature thing is totally true. Paddles are the shocker things doctors use to restart people's heart. The look kind of like irons, you know, like what you iron your clothed with. If anything else doesn't make sense, feel free to tell me in a revew.**

**I think that covers everything. Sorry for the super long AN (It's longer than the first oneshot!) I just really needed to say all that.**

**As usual, this was beta'd by AbbieDabbie/Deputy of Awesome in Charge of Musicals, who waited patiently every time I told her I was 'almost done,' and somehow manages to make sense of the particularly crazy bits of genius that find their way onto the page. Not to mention her valiant battle with her own computer to get the corrections to me. Happy Birthday to you and Gracie!**

**I don't own Percy Jackson! Or Nico. Or Will. Although . . . nope, that's in the last chapter. Never mind my spoiling tongue (and with my own story! Shameful.)**

* * *

><p><strong>Eyes<strong>

* * *

><p>Will kept checking his eyes. He did it with a weird little triangular flashlight from his black doctor's bag, which also contained a tiny rubber mallet, a stethoscope, a large canteen of nectar, a lunch box full of individually wrapped squares of ambrosia, a prescription pad, numerous tongue depressors and about a gallon of cough syrup.<p>

Nico was becoming increasingly suspicious of that bag.

Will would shine that sharp little light directly into Nico's corneas, and Nico would have to clench his fists to keep from hitting him. Sometimes Will would tell him to follow the light without moving his head, and sometimes he would just flick the light over his pupils, seeing how fast they reacted.

After the fifth time he did this, Nico slapped his hand away. "What's wrong with my eyes, Solace?"

"Hm?" Will tapped the flashlight against his thigh and looked at Nico thoughtfully. "Nothing."

"What. The. Fuck."

"I mean, your pupils don't always contract all the way, which is probably why sunlight made you so uncomfortable, but that's not really a problem. It's just . . ." Will reached out tentatively and brushed Nico's bangs away from his face.

"Your eyes are brown," he stated quietly.

"Yes. And . . . ?" Nico said, wondering where this was going.

"Nothing." Will dropped his hand. His ears were pink. "They're nice."

Nico raised an eyebrow.

Will huffed. "Shut up. I just didn't notice before. I always thought your eyes were black."

Nico watched Will as he pretended to be busy organizing his bag. Will's eyes were pale blue/grey, the color of a clear autumn sky. Sometimes they seemed to be staring at something far away, and sometimes they were clear and determined. Sometimes they were sad.

Will's eyes were nice too.

* * *

><p><strong>Helping<strong>

* * *

><p>It took Will three hours straight (no pun intended . . . okay, maybe a little) to get Nico to even set foot inside the Intensive Care Unit.<p>

"No."

"Yes."

"_No_."

"_Yes_."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No way, no how, not ever!"

"Come on, di Angelo!" Will exclaimed. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"My very presence could drive those poor souls clinging to life over the edge and I would end up committing mass murder just by entering the room."

"You're awfully full of yourself," Will observed. "At the moment you couldn't kill a housefly without dissolving like dust on the wind. Poof!" He made a little exploding gesture with his hands. "You're gone."

Nico glared at him. "That's not funny."

"No, it's not," Will agreed. "I'm just trying to make a point. You won't hurt anyone, I promise. Even if you could, you have my wondrous healing capabilities and natural sunny exuberance to balance out all of your gloomy schist."

Nico growled something offensive under his breath and crossed his arms, turning away from Will to scowl stubbornly out of the window.

"It's not like I'm going to dress you up as a nurse and make you give people sponge baths," Will said, rolling his eyes. "I just want some company."

Nico turned a bit green at the notion of nurses and sponge baths. "What about your siblings?"

"They're _busy_," Will groaned. "And besides, I see them every day. Where's the fun in that?"

"Don't you have _friends_, Solace?"

"_You're_ my friend," Will said. "And I want to hang out with you. But I can't do that _and_ save lives unless you're willing to commute."

"Looks like you're out of luck, then."

"Come on! Pleeeeeeeease?" Will grabbed Nico's hand and tried to tug him out of bed. Nico snarled and ripped his hand away.

"No! Stop asking me!"

"Why not? What's the real reason? You don't care if random people die, you're just afraid of something. What is it?" Will tried to make a pleading puppy dog face, but Nico didn't seem particularly impressed.

"People look at me funny," he muttered. He crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders as if trying to disappear completely. "They don't want me near them. I get plenty of stares and whispering behind my back without asking for it."

"Yeah," Will rolled his eyes. "That's why they stare."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Nico glowered at him.

"Nothing," Will sighed. "Just come with me. I promise the world won't end just because you socialize a bit."

Nico sniffed and turned away pointedly.

"Ooooooohh! You are so frustrating!" Will stamped his foot like a little girl. It looked especially funny because he was wearing shiny gold flip-flops and royal blue gym shorts under his billowy surgeon's smock. "Come with me, come with me, come with me, comewithmecomewithmecomewithme-"

"Stop that! What are you, five?" Nico gave him a look that would have sent Ares running for his mommy. Will just smiled triumphantly. "Fine, I'll come. But I'm not touching anyone. Or talking to them. Or making eye contact."

"Except for me, right?"

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this."

"Sweetness."

And that was how Nico found himself perched uneasily on the medical cabinet next to Miranda Gardiner's bed, while Will treated the fierce burns along her left arm.

Miranda eyed Nico with amusement. Will had insisted he bring a blanket from his bed, since he no longer had a jacket and was bound to get cold. Nico hadn't argued, mostly because he was still sleep deprived and he knew Will was right that he would get cold since he had such a low body temperature. He looked very odd, all wrapped in a navy blue comforter with just his head poking out of the top.

"Here." Will held up a linen sheet. "You can cut this into bandages."

Nico looked at it as if Will was trying to hand him a bouquet of fluffy headed dandelions. "How?"

"Just rip it into strips. Or use scissors if that's easier."

"So . . . like mummy bandages?"

Will raised one eyebrow. "Exactly."

Miranda hissed as he cleaned the burns. They covered the top of her arm from her shoulder to the back of her hand, and the skin bubbled unpleasantly from the antiseptic. Will rubbed a mixture of nectar and healing salve into the ruined skin as gently as he could. Then he turned to Nico, only to find a neat pile of clean, evenly sized bandages in his hands.

"Killed a lot of Egyptians?" he asked mildly, taking the bandage and wrapping one around Miranda's arm, starting at the wrist.

Nico looked somewhat offended. "Of course not. Very few." Will choked on a stifled laugh, but he wasn't sure if Nico was joking. "I happen to very familiar with all kinds of burial rights. The Egyptians were both fascinating, and stupid."

"Weren't they like, the first civilization of all time, even before Greece?"

"Yes. They also worshiped dung beetles and thought people might need their cats in the afterlife." Nico's legs dangled two feet off the ground. He swung them childishly, looking thoughtful. "Their process of mummification, though . . . I've always wanted to try taking someone's brain out through their nose." He looked at Miranda with great interest.

"Nuh, uh. No way," Miranda said. "I'm not dead yet. Wait eighty years, then we can talk."

This made Nico smile very secretively. "I might just take you up on that offer."

"What offer?" Lou Ellen appeared, looking very festive, as she was dressed in an African _kikoi_ of brightly dyed cloth, with a matching turban. Colorful beads and peacock feathers were woven into the multitudes of thin dark braids that spilled down her back. Bangles and bracelets clinked and jingled on her arms. Strings of coins were draped over everything.

Tucked under one of her arms was a baby pig.

"No animals in the ICU," Will said at once. Miranda frowned suspiciously.

"Is that . . . ?"

"I got you a present," Lou Ellen said cheerfully. She set the pig on Miranda's lap and grinned at the boys, revealing several tiny jewels set into each of her front teeth. "Hey, Nico."

Nico was still recovering from the blast of color. The last time he had seen Lou Ellen she had been wearing all black and had war paint on. The difference was jarring. "Um, hey?"

Miranda was frowning at the pig, who was sniffing her bandaged arm.

"Lou?"

"Hmm?"

"This pig has a SPQR tattoo."

"Ah," Lou Ellen twirled one of her braids. "Well . . . you see . . ."

"LOU!"

Lou Ellen laughed.

"Come on," Will muttered. Nico hopped down from the cabinet and followed him down the row of beds to the next patient. Connor Stoll was standing on a mangled leg, attempting to short-sheet the bed next to his own, while Travis lay next to him, moaning whenever he moved his head.

"Severe concussion and . . . Dear Apollo, Conner. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to mess with a carnivorous centaur?" Will scanned their patient files with interest.

"Yes," Travis muttered.

Will prodded Connor back into bed and set about cleaning his leg. Behind them, Nico heard Lou Ellen and Miranda arguing. Then there was a small explosion. Nico looked around. When the purple smoke settled, he saw there was now a butt naked Roman crouching awkwardly on Miranda's lap. He leapt up with a shriek and ran out of the room. Everyone laughed.

"I hope someone catches him before Chiron sees," Will snickered. Nico nodded absently. He was still watching the girls. Miranda was scolding Lou Ellen loudly. Lou Ellen collapsed on top of her, giggling madly. Nico tensed as Lou Ellen suddenly stopped laughing, reached down and tugged Miranda's face up to –

Oh Hades. Nico turned away, his face heating up like an oven. What were they doing? And in front of everyone?

"What's wrong with you?" Will looked at him curiously. "You look like you're about to pass out."

Nico pressed his hands flat against his burning cheeks. "Mm." He shook his head, unable to explain, and not wanting to get the girls in trouble if no one had noticed yet.

Unfortunately, Will noticed.

"Ah," he said, peering around Nico to eye the two girls, happily snuggling on Miranda's bed. "Well, they've been together a while. Nothing strange there."

Nico made a little choking sound and didn't respond.

"Seriously, are you all right? Your face is all red." Will actually looked concerned.

"Are you gonna puke?" Conner asked eagerly.

"My face would be pale, then, not red." Nico took a deep breath and smoothed his hands back over his head.

"Not a fan of PDA?" Will asked sympathetically.

"Not . . . exactly." Nico wondered how hot one's face had to get before it became serious. Surely it wasn't natural for someone with barely any temperature to feel like they were being slow broiled over a blue flame. "I just . . ."

"Oh yeah," Travis looked up blearily. "Aren't you like, from the forties or somethin'?"

"I was born in the nineteen thirties, yes. Before the Big Three's pact" Nico winced. "So was Hazel. We had . . . a bit of a time skip."

"Hazel's your sister on the Roman side, right?" Will asked. His face was bent over Connor's leg as he stitched it up, so Nico couldn't see his expression.

"Yes. Daughter of Pluto."

"Wow." Connor's eyes were just about falling out of his head, although that might have been from the eye watering pain of having most of his leg sewn back on. "Like, World War II time? So I guess seeing same sex couples is like, weird?"

"It's . . . different. People weren't so . . . _open_ back then. Or at all, really." Nico wondered where the conversation was going.

Travis accepted the square of ambrosia Will handed him and nibbled on it like a little mouse. "Sounds like a crappy time to come from. No offense. But most of us here at camp would have been thrown into the loony bin," he stated.

"Yeah," Connor agreed. "But I bet camp was way loose even back then. I can't imagine Chiron being strict about that, not when he's older then sexuality itself."

"Um . . ." Nico tried to find a way to phrase it delicately. "Are there . . . a lot of people like . . . _that_ here?"

Travis blinked. "Uh, yeah. I mean, we're Greek, right? Don't know about the Romans, but here I bet more than three fourths are at least bi. Let's see . . . Lou and Miranda, obviously. Malcolm and Mitchell are together. Drew flirts with the girls as much as the guys. Actually, I bet all the Aphrodite kids are pan."

"Benjamin from Hecate, Tony from Demeter and Jessie from Ares," Travis added.

"Those Nike kids Vic and Tory, Gerald from Nemesis, Shane and Christopher from Hephaestus," Connor rattled off. "I mean, that's just to give you an idea. It would be easier to give you a list of people who are totally straight."

"I'm gay," Will said suddenly. He glanced up a Nico through his eyelashes. "Just wanted to mention it before someone else did." Here he shot the Hermes boys a nasty look. They smiled innocently.

Nico drew the blanket over his head self consciously. "_Ki ego_," he mumbled in Greek. He peeked at Will, who was already looking at him with an unfathomable expression. They stared at each other. Neither of them had changed, and yet they were seeing each other in the wholly new light of possibility.

"Well I'm single as a Pringle, ready to mingle, and have no preference," Connor announced, and then gave a girlish shriek as Will 'accidentally' upended the entire bottle of alcohol antiseptic on his leg.

"You idiot," Travis muttered, holding his head as his brothers screams pounded into his brain. "You totally butted in and ruined the moment."

Will apologized with sickly sweet sincerity and then dragged Nico away.

"Sorry about them," he sighed, as the sounds of the brothers arguing over the glass of nectar Will had left them, faded.

"I'm used to them," Nico said. "When I first got to camp, they tried to get me into their poker game. Imagine their disappointment when they discovered I didn't have a penny to my name."

"I assume that was before you found out you were the son of the god of riches," Will said dryly.

"Well, yes."

"So did you really not know there were other gay demigods?" Will asked as he set down his little black doctor's bag on the bed of the next patient. The poor fellow was unconscious, with a cracked skull from some monster's club.

"I never noticed before," Nico muttered. "I just assumed there weren't."

"You should come around more often," Will told him. "I mean, you've been coming to camp for what, three years, and you didn't notice?"

"Four years since I first came here. And I don't . . . look at people." Nico frowned at the guy in the bed. Half his head was swollen and purple.

"Because you don't like the way they look back." Will didn't say it like a question. Nico nodded stiffly.

"Then you've been hanging around the wrong people." Will grinned at him. It made Nico's heart jump, and he remedied it with a scowl.

"Do you hate the way I look at you?" Will asked curiously.

"Yes."

"Sheesh. You didn't even have to think about it." Will sighed.

"Look. I've been here for five years." He pulled his camp necklace from under his shirt. "See? Five beads. First day here, I found Lee making out with some unclaimed guy who was staying in the Hermes cabin. The looks on their faces." Will shook his head, smiling as he remembered.

Nico eyed the leather cord with its five beads. "What is that?"

Will gaped at him. "Are you kidding me?"

"I do not _kid_, Solace."

"Jeez, di Angelo. You didn't even stick around long enough to get a necklace? That's sad." Will shook his head and tucked his own necklace back under his shirt. "First thing we do after we're sprung from here is get you one. No arguments."

"But-"

"_No_."

Nico glared at the wall. _People_.

"Here, hold this." Will held out a canteen of nectar. Nico took it unwillingly and watched as Will ran his fingers over the guy's bruised head.

"Ten small fractures," he muttered. "Unfortunately there's no medical way of fixing those except keeping him still and letting nature take its course. Lucky for us, we have something a little more reliable. Nectar?"

Nico handed it to him. Will folded a strip of gauze into a large square and dipped it in the nectar, wrung it out and placed it on the purpling skin. He kept it in place by wrapping clean bandages around and around the guy's skull.

"All done," Will said proudly. Nico watched him pack up his bag.

"Can I go, now?" he asked.

"What? No!" Will exclaimed, frowning. "Why would you want to go?"

"I've been here for over an hour," Nico muttered, not meeting his eyes. "Isn't that enough?"

"No! I mean, yes, but- No!" Will ran a hand through his hair. "You still want to leave?"

"Of course I do. You do realize I will literally be just down the hall?"

"I know, but . . ." Will looked disappointed. "I was just hoping . . ."

"Hoping _what_?"

"Oh come on." Will ignored his question. "You aren't still hung up on the staring thing, are you?"

"_Yes_," said Nico through gritted teeth.

"Seriously?" Will was looking annoyed now. "Would you please enlighten me as to why? You've been in here for an hour, _like you said_, and no one has bothered you, or been rude or anything. And you still think people are freaked out by you?"

"_They_ have been staring at me and whispering since I got here," Nico hissed, jerking his head in the direction of a couple of Aphrodite girls sat around their sister Lacy who had several deep tissue contusions on her arms, back and one of her legs. When they saw Will and Nico looking at them, they started giggling and put their heads together to whisper.

Nico glowered and seemed to shrink in on himself.

Will turned red.

"Oh that," he mumbled, turning quickly away and busying himself with his bag. "That's not . . . because they're freaked out."

Nico looked at him suspiciously. "Why, then?"

"Oh for-" Will huffed. "They think that you're . . . you know. _Cool_."

Nico gave him a blank look. "What?"

Will winced. "Cool. As in, interesting. As in . . . you."

"No," Nico said flatly.

"Yeah, well." Will felt like he was pulling out his own teeth. He ran his hand through his hair again distractedly. The Aphrodite girls giggled again and he grimaced.

"But . . . why?" Nico was looking at him with deep distrust and confusion.

Will groaned. He wanted to slam his head into the wall. He settled for pressing his face into the fractured-skull-guy's mattress. "Can we please stop talking about this?"

"You brought it up!" Nico cried.

"Yeah, that was stupid of me," Will muttered. "You should never let people who have power, _know_ that they have power."

"What was that?" Nico growled.

"Nothing." Will lifted his head and stared at Nico, hard. "Okay, here's the deal. You, Nico di Angelo, are a conundrum. You come and go from camp without anybody noticing, and yet you don't seem to notice anybody either. You can go completely unseen, and yet your aura is so powerful I can pick you out of a crowd a mile away. You claim to want to be alone and not care about anyone, but you've always done everything you can to save us from whatever baddy pops up. You're dark and broody and not very nice, but you're really charismatic and are almost always right about everything, (which gets annoying, by the way) and you're totally _in_ with the Seven, _and_ the Romans."

At this point Nico opened his mouth to say something, but Will beat him to it. "Nope! Not done. Not even close."

He took a deep breath.

"Half the time you aren't even here and no one knows what might be you're up to, which makes you seem really mysterious, and when you _are_ here, you act more like Chiron or some other grownup than a camper, even though you look really young. Then when you're doing all that kickass fighting, you go a little crazy, kind of like Percy, which is really intimidating. _But_ you also happen to be one of the most socially and/or emotionally crippled people I've ever met, which makes you think or do ridiculous things. Like leaving camp. Or gets you into situations like this one. On the other, other hand you have a certain old world charm that . . . _some_ _individuals_ may find attractive. But you're so frickin' powerful and enigmatic that people end up being in awe of you."

Nico looked decidedly embarrassed. "Anything else?"

Will considered. "You're also a bit of a snob."

"Solace!"

"Just a bit. But seriously, you don't exactly help your case. You misread everything as people being scared, and respond to them with even more negativity than you usually do, and then you're just stuck in a cycle. I'm not saying everyone's secretly in love with you . . ." _Cough, cough,_ ". . . but I think you'd be surprised by how many people _don't_ hate you.

"Besides," Will sighed, "honestly, if you're waiting for universal popularity, you're gonna be stuck in the Underworld for _long_ time. I hate to admit it, but there are even some people who don't like _me_. And I'm me!"

"Yes, who could hate you?" Nico asked with a perfectly straight (this time it was totally unintentional . . . mostly) face.

"Ha, ha. My _point_ is that when you get your head out of that doomy-gloomy-brooding rain cloud of yours, people like you just fine! Which you would have noticed, if you bothered to actually look at people as themselves and not potential enemies. You're too stuck in your own miserable head to realize that not everyone feels the same way about you!"

"I don't believe you," Nico said flatly.

"Of course you don't!" Will threw his hands up in frustration. "Why trust me when you can wallow in your own stupidity!?"

"At least I can claim to be more intelligent than you!" Nico replied angrily. "Now try to wrap your blonde bimbo head around this, Solace. _I'm not supposed to be here._ I don't even belong in this time, much less in the upper world!"

"Well, I don't think I should be Head Counselor," Will snapped. "I have no talent for anything but healing, I can't fight, I'm not the oldest, and quite frankly I'm a crappy leader. And yet here I am, because everyone who was here before me is currently busy being dead. Belonging is overrated."

"Oh please!" Nico snarled, his eyes flashing with dangerous fire. "You have no idea what it's like to be shunned everywhere you go, to know that nobody but the dead will ever accept you! Do you think I don't see the way people look at me, as if they're wondering what the hell I'm doing here? I assure you, I'm perfectly aware when people don't want me around!"

"_I_ want you around!" Will cried. "Doesn't that tell you something? I want you here even though you're an arrogant git who's denser than schist, and you can yell at me, ignore me, insult me, or attack me with zombies and skeletons; heck, you can throw my soul in Tartarus if you want, and while I might get pissed as hell, none of that will ever make me stop wanting you!"

Nico stared at him in something akin to horror, the heat rising in his face.

Will went pink as he realized what he had said. "Here," he added belatedly. He scratched his neck. "I mean, I want you here. With me. At camp. Specifically the infirmary. Whatever. You know what I mean."

Now that they had both quieted down, they realized they had a bit of an audience. Almost everyone in the ICU was staring at them with varying levels of amusement. Will hoped fervently that they had just heard the shouting, and not the actual conversation behind it. He would have dearly loved to crown the moment by face-palming, but he settled for dragging a protesting Nico out of the infirmary by the wrist. Behind them, the Aphrodite girls erupted into chattering giggles.

"What is their problem?" Nico hissed. "Why are they _still_ staring?"

_Because they think you're cute. Or they know _I_ think you're cute, and they think _that's_ cute._

"They're Aphrodite kids," Will said out loud. "It's their nature to make trouble. They can be worse than the Stoll's."

He stopped and leaned against the corridor wall, sighing.

"Did you just walk me to my room?" Will looked up to see Nico looking at him with one dark eyebrow raised.

Looking around, Will realized they were right outside the 'Long Term Stay' wing. "Um . . . no?"

The hallway seemed unusually quiet and peaceful compared to the harsh ICU lights and sounds. The dark wood walls shone dully in the light of a low wattage bulb, and the carpet softened their footsteps.

"I'm sorry," Will said tiredly, rubbing his eyes. "I didn't even know I could get angry like that."

Nico shifted from foot to foot, not looking at him. "It's all right. It was kind of fun."

Will lifted his head, surprised. To his continued amazement, Nico was smiling. It was just a little one, but it was real. He seemed tired, but happy.

Nico saw his expression and shrugged. "It's been a while since I had a real argument with someone. Usually, I have to hold myself back so I don't accidentally kill them. I guess that isn't a problem right now," he added ruefully, looking down at his white hands. They were faded and shimmering like water vapor in the half light, and the dark circles under his eyes were even more pronounced than usual. He appeared fuzzy around the edges, like a watercolor painting about to melt away.

"Are you cold?" Will asked quietly. The blue comforter had been left somewhere in the ICU while they were yelling at each other.

"'M fine." Nico rubbed his hands together and blew on them lightly. "My fingers are just numb."

"Here." Will held out his own hands, palms facing up. Nico hesitated.

"I promise, I haven't delivered anymore satyr babies."

"That is _not_ reassuring." Nico placed his hands on Will's. Will held them very carefully, pressing the icy fingers between his own warm palms. He thought Nico might dissolve under his touch of he pressed too hard.

"I've never gotten in a fight before," he admitted with a little laugh. "Not even with my siblings."

"Seriously?"

"A few disagreements, sure, but a real fight . . . The only shouting I did was to be heard over everyone else's bickering."

"Mr. Pacifist," Nico snickered.

Will grinned. "Until you came along."

Nico didn't smile again, but his eyes glowed with the same fire they had when fighting off hordes of monsters. Will thought he would happily battle Nico on any point he wished just to see that look on his face. It brought him sharper into focus, like Will had adjusted an invisible camera lens. Nico's fingers grew warm and alive against his own.

"Well for your first fight, you did very well," Nico said.

"I'm glad you think so," Will said lightly. "It would be poor sport for you if I didn't have some small talent."

Nico's lip twitched. He retracted his hands to his sides. Will let him go reluctantly.

"You did well too," he said into the sudden silence. "In the ICU, I mean."

Nico looked at him suspiciously. "I didn't do anything."

"You didn't kill anyone." Will gave a half smile. "By your standards that's pretty good, right?"

Nico didn't answer. He looked off to the side, suddenly cold. Will deflated a bit.

_Every time I think I can touch you . . ._

"I still don't believe you," Nico said briskly. "Good night." It was the middle of the day.

Nico brushed past Will and slipped into the 'Long Term Stay' wing, quickly shutting the door behind him.

Will let his head fall back against the dark wood wall with a thump, and then slid to the floor.

_You slip away from me._

* * *

><p><strong>Nightmares<strong>

* * *

><p>Nico di Angelo woke up to find himself straddling Will Solace on the ratty old infirmary bed, one hand pinning his wrists above his head, the other holding his sword to his throat.<p>

Will wasn't moving, frozen as he was with the sharp Stygian iron pressing against his jugular vein, but Nico could see the flutter of his colorless lashes as he looked up at him with wide eyes; could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to breathe.

Will's body suddenly went limp under Nico's hold. He licked his lips dryly and swallowed.

"Nico?" His voice was softer than a whisper, fainter than a breath. A bead of blood oozed from the place where the sword was cutting into his skin.

There was a moment of tense silence. The old fashioned candle Nico had set on the bedside table flickered dangerously; casting warm light over Will's face and making it look unusually open and vulnerable.

Nico became aware he wasn't breathing, his whole body coiled and locked into kill-mode. He dropped his head and let out a slow breath, forcing himself to relax. It was just Will.

Eventually he lowered his sword and let it fall to the floor. His grip on Will's wrists slackened and he removed his hand. The tips of his fingers tingled as blood rushed back into the capillaries; Will would have bruises.

He sat back and looked down at Will, trapped under him and completely at his mercy, unable to fight back. Comprehension was trickling slowly into his sleep addled brain, and gradually he realized what he had almost done. Will was still not moving, whether from shock or fear Nico didn't know. He felt something cold sink into his stomach.

Carefully, Nico rolled off Will's prone body and lay in his back next to him. He passed his hands over his face and took several deep breaths, trying to pull himself together. No light came in through the big bay windows; outside was pitch black. It was the middle of the night.

"Sorry," he said finally, his voice muffled by his hands. "Nightmare."

Will's fingers twitched and then curled above his head. He hummed quietly. Nico felt the bed shift as he turned over onto his stomach.

"You were fading."

Nico glanced over at him cautiously. Half of Will's face was pressed into the pillow, and a single blue eye peered up at him. "I came in to check on you, and it was like all the shadows in the room were soaking into your skin and dissolving you into nothing. You were so still I thought you might already be dead."

Nico glared at him half-heartedly. "And what made you think it was a good idea to try and wake me up?"

"I didn't want you to die."

Nico raised his eyes to the ceiling and didn't say anything.

"What was your nightmare about?"

Nico closed his eyes. "Nothing important. Just a normal nightmare. Bad memories."

Will was still looking at him, he could feel it. He sighed.

"During the war I got captured by giants." The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I was held in this bronze jar, not even big enough to stand up in. There was no light, no air, no warmth. The only way I stayed alive was by going so deep into a death trace I don't think I've ever recovered completely. I was in there for days, but it felt endless. Sometimes I think I'm still in there."

Will was quiet for a second, and then - "Were you scared no one would come for you?"

"No." The infirmary ceiling was made of the same sleek brown wood as the walls. Nico's eyes traced the age lines and then their gaze drifted inward. "I didn't expect anyone to come."

"What?" Will lifted his head and stared at Nico in disbelief. His left cheek had red marks from the creases in the pillow case. "Why not?"

Nico shrugged.

"But that's-! Nico! That's insane!" Will exclaimed.

"Maybe," Nico murmured.

Will huffed and shoved his face back into the pillow. "Why were you so afraid, then?" he asked in a muffled voice.

"What do you mean?"

"I felt it." Will peeked up at Nico to gauge his reaction. "Your fear. When I tried to wake you up, I grabbed your arm. It was just a flash, but I think I saw your nightmare before you flipped out."

"I nearly killed you."

"Yeah, you had that look in your eyes. If you tried, could you show someone your nightmares? I'm asking for purely medical reasons."

"Yes," Nico said, raising his hands in front of his eyes. They flickered from transparent to solid and back again in the dim candlelight. "If I wanted to, I could weave my nightmare into your soul and watch you drown in it."

Will clutched the pillow tightly. "Why were you afraid, Nico?"

Nico didn't answer for the longest time. "There are so many reasons to be afraid in this world, Will. I don't think I remembered how to _not_ be scared, not for a very long time."

"Are you still afraid?"

Nico looked over at him thoughtfully. "I know nothing can hurt me anymore unless I let it. It's just harder to control dreams in the dark. It was careless of me to fall asleep at night."

"Hmm." Will gritted his teeth, and Nico could tell he was trying not to start lecturing. "What . . . exactly do you plan to do about that? Just become completely nocturnal? Because, as your doctor, I have a few objections."

"I haven't had a normal sleep pattern in months," Nico said. "When I was carrying the Athena Parthenos I would sleep for a couple days at a time, jump a hundred thousand miles and then sleep again. I don't usually need a lot of sleep. As long as I'm not hauling a giant statue all over the country, I'll be fine."

"No you won't!" Will exclaimed loudly. "You-mmph!" Nico slapped his hand over Will's mouth.

"Shut up," he hissed, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. "Do you want to wake the whole camp? Keep your voice down."

Will met his stare head on, as annoyingly resilient as ever.

"You can't just not sleep!" he said in a heated whisper once Nico had removed his hand. "It isn't healthy! Immunocompromised people can't go around without sleep! Especially if they have a bad habit of constantly dissolving into shadows and avoiding sunlight and real food!"

"I am not . . . Immunocompromised." Nico made a face at the word. "I don't even know what that means."

"Ah - it means your body . . . well, technically it means the immune system is unable to fight back because of low white blood cell count, but the word itself mostly just means that put really simply, your body just doesn't always work right," Will said, scratching his neck.

"My body works fine!"

"Right; aside from the whole 'almost-dying-all-the-time' thing, you're the picture of health!"

They glared at each other fiercely, neither willing to back down. Nico suddenly became aware how close they were lying next to each other on the cramped infirmary bed, their arms almost touching. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed so his back was facing Will.

Will made a huffy noise of displeasure and shoved his face back into the pillow.

Nico watched the candle flicker, casting shadows in between his finger tips and into the corners of Will's mouth.

"Are all your dreams like that one?" Will asked quietly.

Nico bristled.

"No," he said shortly. Most of them were far worse.

"Are any of them good?"

Nico turned his head to look at him, the candlelight throwing his face into familiar shadows. There was still a trace of blood on Will's neck that had probably smeared on the pillow.

"They aren't always bad," he said finally.

Will propped himself up on his forearms and looked at Nico with an unusually somber expression. "Will you show me?"

Nico's eyes widened in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

Will's mouth set into a familiar stubborn line. "I am. You already said you can do it. Show me you nightmares, Nico."

"No." Nico shook his head. "You have no idea what you're asking."

"I want to know," Will said. He thrust out his hands to Nico. "Show me!"

"No!" Nico ran a hand agitatedly through his hair. It needed a wash. "You don't understand. You're the son of the _sun _god. All that darkness . . . it might kill you. And even if you did survive, in what mental state? You could go mad, or worse."

"No I won't," Will said stubbornly. "I can handle it."

"_No one _can handle it, Will!" Nico spat. He clenched his fists and looked away.

"Please?" Will's voice was soft. Nico was afraid if he turned around and saw his expression, he'd do something stupid. "I want to know. I want to . . . to understand."

_"No, you don't,"_ Nico thought. _"You just think you do. You have no idea what you want."_

"Not . . . tonight," Nico said out loud. "Maybe when I'm feeling better." The lie felt heavy on his tongue; he knew he would never go through with it. 'Ghostifying' Bryce Lawrence was one thing - Will was another entirely. Nico did not want anybody to have to feel the weight of Tartarus, the giants, all his secrets . . . someone so close to the light should never have to touch the darkness.

When Nico glanced back at him, Will looked like he knew exactly what he was thinking. "Really? Do you promise?"

Nico swallowed thickly. "Yes."

"Do you swear on the river Styx?"

Nico froze. He considered every promise a sacred thing, a binding contract. He did not make promises he was not willing to keep, which was why he made so very few of them. And an oath on the Styx was as binding as you could get. The gods _would_ hold him to it.

Was it worth their punishment just to keep Will in the light?

"Yes." His voice sounded far away, as if his ears were filled with water. Will didn't look completely convinced, but he lay back down.

"Okay then."

Nico was done talking. "Go away, Solace."

"Aww, but we're having so much fun!"

"It's the middle of the night. _You_ are supposed to be asleep."

Will yawned. "But then you'd be up all alone."

Nico sighed. "Go to sleep, Solace."

"Nooooo. Don't call me that. I like it when you call me Will."

"You really are tired, aren't you?" Nico said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not taking anything you've said tonight seriously."

"I am perfectly lucid, Nico di Angelo," Will insisted. "And you better be taking me seriously, or else – what are you doing?"

Nico reached over and touched his fingertips to Will's forehead.

"Sleep," he whispered. He searched for a moment and then found the cool darkness of Will's dreams, pulling them up over his mind like a blanket. Will's eyelids fluttered shut and his head fell back onto the pillow.

Nico removed his hand and tried to rub his wrist. His fingers went right through it. He felt dizzy.

"Told youuuu," Will slurred disapprovingly. Nico looked around, and was amazed to see him glaring at him sleepily, stubbornly holding onto the last dregs of wakefulness.

"I'd come an' get you, ya know," he said. He reached up and tugged on the hem of Nico's black shirt. "I wish I'd gone an' got you before . . . I woulda' saved you."

Nico felt his face soften against his will. "Would you now?"

"Mm hm. 'Cause when you were gone . . . I missed you." Will's hand fell limply onto the bed and he stopped talking, his breathing evening out. He was asleep.

Nico felt hot all over. His blood boiled. _Damn you, Solace._

When he was sure Will was really and truly out of it, he lay back down and frowned up at the ceiling. Next to him, Will mumbled something inaudible into the pillow and shifted around a bit.

Nico glanced down at him. Then he sighed. "Sweet dreams, Will."

He lay awake all night, and only when the sun peeked out from the horizon and filled the windows with light did he find his way to sleep.

Will woke up just in time to see Nico close his eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you, and good night! Or morning. Whatever. Review please!<strong>


	3. Three Days: Second Day

**Hello everyone! As usual, thank you for the ridiculous amount of follows, favorites and reviews! You guys are too good to me.**

**Okay, notes on this chapter: It is the second day of Nico's infirmary, and this is where time gets tricky. This is the longest chapter yet, because it had two really long things. Today we are having a random angst specialty, with a heavy dose of my personal headcannons on the side. If you have any questions about those, aka I completely confused you with random explanations of things that don't exist, please feel free to ask me to explain properly in a review!**

**The songs Will plays in this first one are the songs I'm learning in high school guitar 1. Very easy, and very nice. I feel like as a whole, like at parties and such, demigods listen to stuff like AWOLnation, Michael Jackson and Fall Out Boy. But I couldn't imagine specifically what kind of music Will and Nico liked, so I made Will like almost anything and Nico pretend to hate everything just to annoy Will while secretly enjoying most of it. The last song, Maggot Brain, is such a wonderful song, I suggest you go listen to it right now so you understand the feels behind it.**

**Someone asked if I would ever write smut for this couple. I have to admit, I am very flattered. I would never want someone to specifically write smut for a couple I love unless I really liked the way they wrote and portrayed the characters, so I am very honored. The answer issss . . . maybe. Probably sometime in the future (like years and years) I will try to do something smutty, and when I do, I will remember your request.**

**All righty then! Let's get this show on the road! This was beta'd by the amazing and wonderful AbbieDabbie! Now I can finally get to work on your birthday present! Your birthday was what, a week ago?  
><strong>

**~I don't own Percy Jackson~ But seriously, how cool would that be? Probably less cool when Annabeth murdered me in my sleep, but then again, that would be such a cool way to die!**

* * *

><p><strong>Music<strong>

* * *

><p>It all started with the radio. Will liked to have it on at all times, in every room of the infirmary, saying it 'helped him concentrate' and 'accelerated the healing process,' and 'provoked a healthy atmosphere.'<p>

Nico hated it. He said it was 'énas thóryvos rypogóno̱n apovlí̱to̱n tou chrónou pou trimméno eknev̱ristiká sta név̱ra kai den tha boroúse na theo̱ri̱theí káti perissótero apó éna kommáti anaxióti̱tas .'

Or, in English, '_A noise polluting waste of time that grated irritatingly on the nerves and could not be considered anything more than a driveling piece of worthlessness.'_

As one might expect, that did not go over well with the son of the god of music. (Whether Will himself was musically gifted was irrelevant – he still liked to listen.) And so it became Will's mission to find out what kind of music Nico liked.

Usually Will would set the radio to a random variety station and be okay with whatever song came on, but the that day he turned the dial to a rock station. And then a rap station. And then classical.

Each time Nico declared he hated it. Will didn't know whether he was just being difficult on purpose, or literally had no musical taste, but either way he wasn't backing down.

And then Will came back to find the radio had been mysteriously stabbed, gutted and strewn in little pieces into the fireplace.

"Right." Will took a deep breath. "Right."

He left abruptly and then stormed back into the room ten minutes later with a slim silver contraption in his hand.

"All right!" he exclaimed. "That's it! I have at least one song from every genre known to man right here, and I am going to play each and every single one until you like something!"

If Nico thought that was a poor strategy, he didn't say anything.

He watched shrewdly as Will set up the small silver rectangle on a black box and plugged it into the wall.

"What is that?"

"This, my uncultured young friend, is my personal iPod." Will nodded importantly as he scrolled through his songs. "Be grateful that you are allowed the deep and intimate honor of being privy to my most innermost self."

"I'm speechless with wonder," Nico muttered. "What's an iPod?"

Will just shook is head in disbelief.

He started with country and folk music and then went on to rap and pop. Blues and jazz. Metal and rock. Alternative rock. Techno. Celtic and opera. Soul. Retro/eighties. Foreign. Classical. Everything he had in neat little labeled playlists, and then on to the miscellaneous items. From the Beatles to Elvis to Michael Jackson and beyond, Will had very song he'd ever heard stored on that small silver device, and after every song he'd look up hopefully, wondering if Nico had finally heard something he liked.

Every time, Nico would glare at him like _are you serious?_

Will would have torn at his hair in frustration, but it was carefully styled with several bobby-pins to keep it away from his face while he worked, so he settled for quiet seething and dirty looks.

Nico dozed.

"Dammit, di Angelo!" Will finally roared, throwing down the flowery potholder he had been using for unspecified reasons. "What the hell do you want from me!?"

Nico squinted up at him sleepily. "Wha . . .?"

"This!" Will slapped the top of the black box (home speaker) his iPod was resting on and the dulcet tones of Whitney Houston stopped mid-song. "Do you seriously not like _any_ of this!?"

"Mmmn." Nico rolled over onto his stomach, twisting the sheets around his waist and propping himself up on his elbows. "Not really."

Will seemed to deflate.

"Really?" He looked so sad and pitiful, Nico almost felt guilty.

But not guilty enough. "Really."

Will slumped onto the end of his bed. "You honestly don't like _any_ kind of music?"

Nico observed his defeated posture with a lazy eye and didn't respond.

"Ugh." Will flopped across the bed, his head hanging off one end while his long legs dangled over the other. He covered his face dramatically and gave a long, woe begotten sigh.

Nico watched him with interest. "Don't you play guitar?"

"Where on earth did you hear _that_ ridiculous rumor?"

"You've played it at the campfire."

Will uncovered his eyes. "I play guitar," he admitted. "And sometimes the trumpet. And the lyre, but only because my dad insists on tradition. Although lately he's been going on about some Valdezinator thing . . ." he trailed off for a second and then snapped back. "But it isn't a gift. The music, I mean. I had to learn from scratch, and I have to practice a lot to keep from getting rusty. And don't even get me started on my singing-"

"No need," Nico interrupted. He had heard Will's self deprecating musical/archery speech several times already.

"Do you have your own guitar?"

Will looked over at him, confused. "Yeah. One electric, one acoustic. Why?"

Nico looked at him with sleepy, half lidded eyes. "Play me something?"

Will's eyes practically bugged out of his pretty blonde head as he gaped. "W-what?"

Nico shrugged and gave a small yawn. "I just thought since you're so gung-ho about all this music schist, you would want to explore every option."

Will glared at him suspiciously. "Fine."

Ten minutes later he was back with and electric blue and black zebra striped guitar and a small portable amp. He plugged everything in, settled on the edge of the bed and strummed a few chords to make sure it was all in tune.

"All right," he said. "What should I play?"

"Hmm." Nico was scrolling through his iPod. The miniature screen and touch pad seemed to fascinate him to no end. "Uhh . . . This one. The black one."

Will took the iPod to see which one he was referring to. He raised his eyebrows. "The Rolling Stones. Nice."

He took a deep breath and began –

_"I see a red door and I want it painted black,_

_No colors anymore, I want them to turn black,_

_I see the girls walk by, dressed in their summer clothes,_

_I have to turn my head until my darkness goes."_

Will played through the whole four minute song while Nico watched with lazy interest. Finally Will plucked the last note and let it ring out into the empty silence. He looked at Nico expectantly.

Nico shook his head and held up another song.

"Folsom Prison by Johnny Cash? Seriously?"

Nico raised an eyebrow.

"Fine."

_"I hear the train a comin', it's rollin' down the bend,_

_And I ain't seen the sunshine since, I don't know when,_

_I'm stuck in Folsom Prison, and time keeps dragging on,_

_But that train keeps a rollin', all down to San Antone." _

"You are so full of schist, Solace," Nico said when he was finished.

"Excuse me?" Will said, affronted.

"You kept going on and on about how bad your singing was. And now I'm calling you out on that bullschist."

"My voice is _not_-"

"No, it's not good, it's not even slightly leaning towards good. It is, without a doubt, the most mundane singing voice I have ever heard. No doubt compared to your siblings it's leaning more towards the 'not good'. But it isn't _bad_." Nico sighed. "I have to say, Solace, I'm a little disappointed. It would have been cool if you could have scared away monsters just with your singing."

"But-"

"Play this," Nico interrupted him again. "It doesn't have a singing part."

Will glanced at the song. "Maggot Brain? That's a ten minute song!"

Nico looked at him expectantly.

"Grr. Whatever."

Maggot Brain was a long electric guitar piece by Edie Hazel. It started off as something very slow and very simple and very sad, and then rolled in between the many crescendos like wailing waves. The song had always reminded Will of someone crying or screaming, with that constant background melody as the sorrows that troubled them no matter how much they railed. The amp echoed every note back, to the effect that the whole song took on a haunted feeling, much at odds with the bright sunlight and Nico's sleepy expression.

Eventually the song trailed off into silence.

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, and then Nico gave a faint laugh and rolled over.

"You know," he said, "I didn't really like that one either. You should play another one."

Will stared at him in disbelief. And the suddenly he was laughing, maybe a little hopelessly, maybe a little breathlessly, and Nico was grinning at him with a mischievous twinkle in his dark, sleepy eyes.

"Fine," Will said, shaking his head. _Like I could say no. _"I'll play another one."

_I'll play as many as you want._

* * *

><p><strong>Coma<strong>

* * *

><p>"So who else is in here?" Nico asked. Will looked up distractedly from a stack of patient files he was cross referencing.<p>

"What?"

"Those two beds have curtains around them, and all the others are empty." Nico scowled. "Why doesn't my bed have a curtain?"

"Because I need to keep my eye on you." Will shot him a tired grin. Nico flushed and grumbled, pulling the blankets over his head so he didn't have to look at Will Solace's stupid face.

"Most people don't stay here too long after they're well enough to get out," Will said. Nico stiffened, wondering if that was an insult to him or a jibe at Will himself. He lifted the blanket an inch and took a swift peek out. Will was looking at him with unsettling fondness, but he didn't look like had been joking at all.

"That guy," he pointed to the closed off bed near the door, "Hermes kid with slashes all over his face, neck and chest with poisoned claws. We stopped the poison in time, but the actual wounds aren't healing well. Worst case scenario is he won't hear, speak or see again.

Nico raised his eyebrows, interested against his will.

"Now as for _him_," Will gestured to the bed across from Nico, "We have no idea what's wrong with him. Ares kid, or rather Mars - he's Roman. Found him unconscious on the battlefield, with only minor injuries. We healed those, gave him an IV of nectar and tried just about everything we could think of to wake him up, but he's an eight on the coma scale and shows no sign of improvement."

"Aren't comas one of those medical things you're supposed to be good at fixing?"

Will didn't take the bait. He ran a hand through his hair and squinted at his watch blearily.

"Yes," he sighed. "But there's nothing physically wrong with him. I can't fix a problem that isn't there." He looked so despondent, as if it was his own personal folly that some poor shmuck had a bump on the brain.

Nico looked at him inquisitively. It was the middle of the day; Will should have been at his peak of annoyingly chirpiness. Instead he was ignoring jabs at his abilities and wearing the same clothes he'd had on the day before. And the day before that.

He frowned at his own thoughts. Why should he care whether stupid Dr. Sunshine was getting enough sleep?

Annoyed with Will, and especially with himself, Nico rolled over and went to sleep, just to be spiteful.

When he woke up an hour later, Will was gone and the windows were open, letting in the sunlight and fresh air. Nico grimaced. He and nature had a lot bad blood between them.

Almost unwillingly, he glanced over at the curtained off bed that hid the supposed coma patient.

Damn the kind, human part of his nature, small as it was. Damn it to his dad.

Muttering to himself, Nico stumbled to his feet and crossed the room to the closed off bed. He drew back the curtains, and gave the young man laying there a cursory glance. Dead in every relevant way, except . . .

_His shadow was off._

Nico picked up the patient file hanging by the foot of the bed. _Bruno_ _Davies_ it read. Below was a picture of the guy smiling slightly, his eyes looking somewhere off to the side. He had a big nose, a thick neck and slick brown hair. He reminded Nico somewhat of Percy's little brother, Tyson the Cyclopes. Except with two eyes. Underneath the picture was a whole bunch of medical stuff that Nico actually understood. The 'Cause of Death' files in the Underworld were similarly organized after all.

Well then.

Nico took a deep breath.

"Bruno Davies," he called in a loud, clear voice.

Almost at once, a ghost appeared in front of him.

"You called, my lord?" Bruno looked very much like his picture, except leeched of all color and glowing a proper ghostly white/blue. "Umm, my lord? Are you okay?"

"Fine," Nico muttered. He leaned heavily on Bruno's bed, trying to catch his breath. He had hoped that just calling out to the ghost, and not actually summoning him, would be less draining. It was, but he still had to take a moment to compose himself.

Bruno's ghost waited patiently until Nico turned back to face him.

"Did you need me, my lord?"

"You're not dead yet, so you don't have to do the whole 'my lord' bit," Nico sighed. "In fact, if you were completely alive, you wouldn't be caught dead calling me that."

"Whatever you say, my lord."

_"Ghosts,"_ Nico thought, shaking his head. He pointed to the coma patient's prone form. "Is this your body?"

"I . . . believe so, my lord."

Nico tutted disapprovingly. "You believe?"

"I mean . . ." the ghost looked confused. He gazed at his body as if it were an old friend whose name he was trying to remember. "Yes. This is . . . my body."

"Why don't you tell me how you got out of it." Nico sat down on the edge of Bruno's bed and looked at his ghost expectantly.

Bruno was still staring at his body. "My head hurt . . . I think I got hit. And then I was asleep for a while . . . and then I heard a battle going on outside. People were screaming . . . I wanted to help. So I got up. But my body didn't. And now I don't know how to go back in."

"Obviously," Nico said under his breath. "May I try something?"

"Of course, my lord."

Nico stood up and gestured for Bruno to lie down on the bed. The ghost did so, looking extremely confused.

"No, no," Nico sighed. "_Inside_ your body. I'm going to seal you back in."

It took some prodding before Bruno's ghost was perfectly lined up with his body. Ares and Mars kids were all brawn and no brain. At least Frank had _some_ intelligence.

Finally Bruno was ready. The only way to tell his body and ghost were still separated was the ghostly glow surrounding his body. Nico reached over to grip the edges of his shadow.

"Ready?"

Bruno made a sound like he was being strangled.

"Good."

Nico took a deep breath . . . and tugged. There was a satisfying, clicky feeling as Bruno's shadow snapped back into place. The glow around his body faded, and he suddenly jerked and inhaled sharply. After a minute, his breathing steadied, and his eyelids fluttered like he was dreaming.

Nico watched him carefully for a moment, and then climbed back into his own bed. He hadn't even used any shadow magic for that particular trick, but he was already exhausted. He burrowed under his sheets, and only had time to vaguely wonder how Will would react to his coma patient waking up out of the blue, before sleep claimed him.

As it turned out, Will was one of the last people to know. His brother Austin was the one who discovered it first, during his checkup rounds. His startled yells woke Nico up, and brought the rest of the Apollo kids running. Will was not among them.

And then, of course, the Romans had to be informed, and various procedures done on poor, barely awake Bruno. So the formerly nice, quiet and peaceful, 'Long Term Stay' wing was full of noisy Roman cohorts and a bunch of underage healers who each had a different idea of what the proper course of action was for mysteriously awoken coma patients.

Nico very much wanted to throw them all out and go back to sleep, or better yet shadow travel somewhere far, far away from the rowdy crowd. But alas, he had no authority over living infirmary occupants, and shadow travel would probably end up being more trouble than it was worth.

The only good point was that no seemed to have realized Nico's involvement. Bruno was still pretty out of it; Austin had mentioned he wouldn't be able to wake up for long periods of time for awhile, and therefore hadn't been able to give an accurate description of what had happened.

Nico certainly wasn't going to say anything. In fact, he was extremely grateful that the visitors had ignored him so far. He didn't know how they would react to what he had done, and he didn't particularly want to. Sure, they might be grateful, but he really didn't want a bunch of Romans fawning all over him. And what if they thought he had cursed Bruno, or something equally misguided? It was far better to lay low, and it gave him more of the possibility of getting back to sleep.

And then, _finally_, Will wandered in.

His eyes went straight to Nico, and Nico knew immediately that he was in trouble. Will was way too smart. He would not take Bruno's miraculous recovery as a gift from the gods, not when Nico di Angelo was in the same room.

Nico watched apprehensively as Austin told Will what had happened, and then as Will checked Bruno over for himself. Hooking his stethoscope back around his neck, Will gave Nico an intense, unreadable look. Nico scowled back at him. He hadn't done anything wrong.

"All right, everybody out!"

Nico blinked in surprise. Everybody groaned as Will shooed them out of the room, promising the Romans that they could visit later, and reassuring his siblings that he would have an explanation shortly.

Will slammed the door shut behind them with both hands and leaned against it. His shoulders slumped, and Nico suddenly remembered how tired Will had seemed before.

Then Will whirled around, strode across the room with long, forceful strides and practically jumped on Nico's bed.

First he took a minute to situate himself comfortably. He ended up sitting cross-legged in front of Nico. Then resumed giving him the Stare Down.

Nico looked at him blankly.

Will's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Nico's dark brows went up in bemusement.

Will twisted his mouth into something that almost resembled a frown. It looked painful, like he wasn't used to doing it.

"You did something," he stated.

Nico schooled his features into looking offended. "I didn't!"

"You are such a liar!" Will hissed. "I told you no shadow magic! I said you shouldn't even get out of bed! You've probably set your recovery back _weeks_-!"

"I didn't use any shadow magic!" Nico said flatly.

"Then _what did you do_?!"

"I _woke him up_!" Nico snarled.

"Without shadow magic? No Underworldy stuff, _whatsoever_?"

"_No_."

Will sat leaned back on his hands and regarded him warily. "How then?"

Nico huffed and looked away. "None of your beeswax."

"My patients, my beeswax! Explain, di Angelo!"

"I won't indulge your obsessions just because you prattle and pry, Solace!"

Will gasped in offense. "_Prattle and pry_?! It's not my obsessions that are the problem here!"

"And what is that supposed to-"

"You can't bear to trust someone even if it's just-"

"_You_ think you have to be the one to fix everything, even if it isn't-"

"You're such a-"

"_You_ are a-"

"_A what!?_"

Nico opened his mouth to respond – and then suddenly realized that he and Will were practically nose to nose. With a muffled yell, he sprang to his feet and was across the room in seconds.

Will gaped at him. Nico pressed back into the wall, wishing he had the strength to disappear. Anger forgotten, they stared at each other, waiting for someone to break the icy silence.

Finally Nico looked away. Will made a strange little sound and put his head in his hands.

"Sorry," he whispered. Nico didn't reply – his chest felt too tight. He slid down the wall and wrapped his arms around his knees, curving over and hiding his face in the space between. He didn't want to look at Will; it was like looking directly into the sun.

It hurt.

He didn't even know why they were arguing. It had happened so suddenly, like they had been waiting for a chance all day, boiling and simmering away on the stove and then someone added salt and everything had blown up over nothing.

"You need to stop making me mad," Nico finally said against his knees in a low, hoarse voice. "It's dangerous."

"Why?" Will's voice sounded thick.

"Because," Nico said fiercely. He raised his head. Will still had his face covered. "Someday I'll kill you."

Will dropped his hands. His eyes looked bright, but Nico didn't know whether from anger or something else.

"No you won't. I'm immune to you."

"That's . . ." _A child's response._ Nico groaned and banged his head against his kneecaps. _I hate the living._

Will sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. Nico glared at him. Will raised his chin defiantly and didn't flinch.

Nico looked away. "Sometimes people's shadows get loose," he muttered.

Will's brow furrowed. "What?"

"That's why people stay in comas when there's no medical reason." Nico sighed and glared out the window. "Usually from a trauma. Their shadow gets knocked loose, which throws everything out of balance, and then it takes a little while to fix it. But sometimes the ghost slips out through the gap, and then the shadow can't go back without cutting off the ghost from the body and killing the person."

Will still looked confused. Nico wanted to smack him.

"It's like . . . imagine we, as humans, are in five parts. When we're alive, we have our physical body, which is like the camera lens. Then there is the ghost, which takes the same shape and space as the body, but is made from something else entirely. The ghost is the actual camera that takes the pictures of our lives, which we see and understand through our body, and then sends it to our soul where everything is recorded. Think of the soul as a tiny glowing library in side your chest."

Will looked at him blankly.

"So . . . say someone gets hit in the head. Two things happen. Their physical brain swells and they get a concussion, and their shadow gets knocked just a little off balance and they pass out. We're actually designed to fix that, and it wouldn't take longer than a few days at most. But the ghost is what connects the body and soul. Sometimes it might hear something that makes it want to get up and keep going, and if the shadow isn't keeping it completely locked in, it will leave the body behind. But ghosts are stupid. They only change when the body does, and their change is what adds to the soul. So now the ghost is stuck in that last moment that made it want to get up, the body is near death and the soul is completely cut off, unable to grow."

Will blinked. "What about the fifth part?"

"What?"

"You said we have five parts. You've mentioned the shadow, body, soul and ghost. What's the fifth?"

"The fifth . . . fire. Or rather, life. The stuff Prometheus gave us. It's the balance of the shadow, like how the body is the balance of the soul. The ghost just ties everything together. If the shadow is off balance, so is the fire, so is your life, which is why you're almost dead."

Will's mouth hung open a little as Nico explained. Then he shook himself.

"So." He leaned forward and stared at Nico, hard. "_What did you do_?"

Nico shrugged. "I put his ghost back. And sealed his shadow."

"And that didn't require any Underworldification?"

Nico raised his eyebrows at the new word. "I can touch people's shadows and ghosts the same way I touch the living. It requires little to no effort. It's just annoying. And I didn't even summon his ghost properly, I just called him. He came without me having to make him do anything."

Will looked at him. It was the same, intense stare as before, but Nico had told the truth. What else did Will want from him?

"What?" he finally snapped.

Will didn't lower his gaze. Nico couldn't place his expression, but it was unsettling.

"You look tired," Will said finally.

Nico snorted. "So do you."

Will fell to his side on Nico's bed, one hand playing with the sheets. The sun painted him gold and white, but Nico could see the shadows under his eyes and between his lips.

"Can I tell them you were the one who woke him up?" Will asked.

"No."

"But-"

"_No_."

"They should know what you did for them," Will insisted.

"They don't need to know anything." Nico curled up further into a ball. He was surprisingly cold without blankets or direct sunlight.

Will got up very suddenly.

"Get back in bed," he said without looking at Nico. "It would be stupid for you to be telling the truth about not using shadow magic and then die anyway."

Nico had to agree with that. The son of Hades 'Cause of Death' file should be a bit more interesting. He lay back down and began wrapping the blankets around himself like a cocoon. The warm sunlight tickled his nose.

"Can I at least tell them after you're done in here?"

"Ugh." Will was obviously not going to let it go. Nico pressed a pillow over his head. "Fine."

Will didn't say anything else, but Nico could feel his gaze burning him from the inside out. He lifted the pillow enough to growl out – "What?"

"Are you seriously that bothered by my looking at you?" Will asked.

Nico shifted uneasily "It makes me . . ."

Will sighed. "I just . . ."

They both stopped.

_Want to kiss you._

They both looked away.

_And that would ruin everything._

* * *

><p><strong>Breathe<strong>

* * *

><p>Will was going crazy. That became particularly obvious to Nico at six o clock in the afternoon, on the second day he spent in the infirmary. He could hear Will shouting from the front area that served as an emergency room, something about not having the proper sized scalpel.<p>

Nico was fairly sure his anger had nothing at all to do with scalpel sizes, and everything to do with the fact that he hadn't gotten more than a couple hours sleep for the past four days, (which went against every Apollo child's most basic instinct to rise with the sun and sleep as soon as it set) and had barely eaten anything for even longer.

And maybe also, because of the patient he had just lost early that morning.

Usually, with demigod war wounds, if you didn't die within the first hour, you were probably going to be fine. Nectar and ambrosia was pretty much hit or miss.

Which was why when Aria Jacobson, one of Will's younger siblings, _did not_ _die_, despite the four gruesome puncture wounds on her side, everyone had assumed she would make it. Hell, even Nico had sensed her strong, fighting life source, felt it stay steady and unwavering throughout the night.

And then at five in the morning, she had started screaming. Nico had woken up very suddenly, feeling her life force flickering madly, sputtering and gasping like a dying candle flame. Will's voice had carried over from the ICU – he had been up all night and was at her side at once.

"Aria? Aria, what's wrong!? Someone get me some nectar and ambrosia, now!"

Nico had slowly swung his legs out of bed. He'd heard people's footsteps running around frantically, voices shouting and above it all, Will calling out for herbs and bandages, as he desperately tried to save his little sister.

Nico could have told him there was nothing he could have done.

He'd made his way slowly through the darkened corridors and stopped in the doorway of the brightly lit ICU. All the Apollo kids had been crowded around Aria's bed, passing around surgical instruments and rolls of bandages. As Nico had watched, Will had ripped open Aria's shirt and sucked in a deep breath. The puncture wounds that had been healing so nicely had turned mottled green and purple, swollen and pulsing against the stitches and oozing pus. Ugly blue lines spider webbed under her skin, reaching all the way across her chest. The poison had already entered her heart.

"Will," Nico had said quietly.

Will hadn't even pause.

"Austin, get a syringe of nectar."

"But-" Austin had looked torn. Aria had started shaking, her long auburn hair splayed across her pillow, spit frothing in the corners of her mouth, choking off her cries.

"NOW!" Will had bellowed, and Austin had scurried away and returned with a syringe full of golden liquid. Will had snatched it, slammed the needle into his sister's chest and pressing the plunger down forcefully, injecting it directly into her heart.

Aria had given gasping breath and shaken even harder, almost violently, shaking the whole bed.

"W-Wi-i-il-l-l," she had whimpered.

Will had gripped her hand. "I'm right here, baby. You're gonna be fine." He'd poured more nectar into her mouth. She'd choked and gasped. Nico had known that to her it would only tasted like ash, and it wouldn't have done anything to help. Nectar was the food of the gods, not the dead.

"Will," he'd said again.

Aria had screamed again, high and piercing, and started thrashing around, knocking the bottle of nectar out of Will's hands. Across the room, her eyes had met Nico's. He'd felt the darkness swirling in her tiny body, the terror, the _pain._

Nico had leaned against the doorjamb and closed his eyes, feeling around for her death, lingering on the edges of her shadow. It had been there, waiting patiently for a quiet moment to steal her away. There had never been any way to save her. The last threads of her life had been quickly unraveling, and Nico had almost been able to see the old, grandmotherly Fates sliding the blade of their scissors through the last bit of resistance.

Nico had taken hold of the girl's darkness and tried to project his own thoughts into it.

_It's okay, everything's okay now. I'll make the pain stop. You can let go. _

Aria had gasped and shuddered, and then gone very, very still. Her heart monitor had flat lined with a long, high whine.

"NO!"

Nico's eyes had flown open. Will had whirled angrily on Austin who stood beside him, staring down at his little sister's corpse. "Get me the paddles!"

No one had moved.

"Will," Nico had tried again.

Will hadn't seemed to hear him. He'd pushed aside one of his siblings and grabbed the paddles from a nearby crash cart, charged them and pressed them to Aria's unmoving chest.

"Clear!" Aria's body had jerked. He'd done it again.

"Will."

Will had thrown away the paddles and pressed his bare hands to her chest, pumping it up and down. Her heart hadn't started.

"Will," Nico had whispered.

"No," Will had ground out. He had been sweating under the harsh ICU lights, his expression desperate and crazed.

"No!" he'd repeated. His hands had glowed and Nico had felt him pushing his life force into Aria's empty body, trying to wake it up.

"Will, stop!" Nico had leapt forward and grabbed Will's wrists as he stumbled forward, his own life force dimming for a moment before steadying.

"Let go," Will had whispered hoarsely. His eyes had been wild, unfocused and unseeing.

"She's gone, Will," Nico had said, giving him a little shake and trying to make him look him in the eye. "She's gone."

Will had made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. "She's _not _- I can bring her back-"

"You _can't_," Nico had said harshly. He'd tightened his grip on Will's struggling hands. "You can't help her anymore, Will. And if you try that again, I'll break your wrists."

Will had finally met his eyes, and Nico had hated his expression. It'd made his stomach bend in on itself, made him want to cry out with the all pain and sadness Will was feeling.

Nico's gaze had only frozen Will for a second, and then he'd tried to twist his hands back to Aria's body, even harder than before. Nico had frowned.

_Crack._

Will had yelped and cradled his hand to his chest.

"I'll break the other one too," Nico had said coldly.

Will had been breathing heavily, his eyes darting from Aria's bloodless face, to Nico's dark eyes, and back to Aria, as if unable to look at her for too long, but at the same time unable to tear himself away.

In the end it was Will's siblings who had separated them, dragging Will away from their sister's bedside with firm or gentle hands.

Nico had let his own hands fall to his sides.

_I'm sorry, Will._

Small, clammy hands had touched his own. Looking down in surprise, Nico had seen the eight year old Apollo twins, Clarence and Clarity at either side of him. He only knew them because they were Rachel's self-appointed helpers, both gifted with the powers of prophecy.

They had looked up at him with wide blue eyes full of tears and tight sweaty hands.

"Thank you," they had whispered together.

Nico had watched, stunned, as they left hand in hand and followed after the rest of their siblings.

It had felt like he stood there for hours. But finally an arrogant beam of sunlight had poked him in the eye and he'd come back to his senses. Before he had left, he'd reached over and gently closed Aria's eyes.

_"Have fun in Elysium," _he'd thought._ "You'll be missed."_

Demigods were always fighting a war, against monsters, against gods and titans and giants, against each other. And with war always comes death. They got used to it, to a certain point. But the problem with thinking you are getting used to something is that it is ten times worse when it surprises you once again.

Nico was used to death. To dying. He had already forgotten what it was like to not have it be a constant part of his life.

Will had seen his fair share of death, and as a healer he shouldered part of the blame, whether it had actually been his fault or not.

But he could still be surprised.

And now he was taking that surprise out on innocent Aphrodite kids who just wanted to lend a hand wrapping bandages and bedazzling casts.

Nico heaved a deep sigh and once again swung his legs out of bed. This time though, he didn't go far. He just knelt on the floor at the foot of his bed, where a puddle of darkness lay in the bed's shadow.

Will's darkness was easily distinguishable from the tangled world of gloom. Nico stuck both of his arms in, and then his whole torso, being careful to keep his knees firmly planted on the cool floorboards of the real world.

Nico appeared in a shadowed corner of the emergency room, right above Will's shaggy blonde head. Lacy, Mitchell and a few others gaped at his disembodied torso, but Will was too busy railing at them to notice.

"I asked you for a number six, size ten scalpel! This is a size twelve! A mistake like this could kill someone! Do you want to be responsible when I make just a little bit too big a cut and some poor sap's guts spill out onto the floor!? Do you – MMPH!"

Nico covered Will's mouth with one hand and wrapped his other arm around his chest.

"Please excuse me while I kidnap him," he said calmly, and then pulled Will back into the darkness, leaving most of the Aphrodite cabin with their mouths hanging open.

They tumbled through a whooshing tunnel of black, and then Nico yanked them both onto the floor of the 'Long Term Stay' wing, Will practically collapsing on top of him.

"W-what the hell, di Angelo?" Will got shakily to is feet. "What the fuck do you think your doing?"

"You're killing yourself," Nico said without preamble. Even that bit of shadow travel left him weak and exhausted, so he just leaned back on his hands and looked up at Will from the floor.

Will made a sound like he was trying to laugh, but couldn't. It sounded harsh and wrong coming from Will's mouth. "Look who's talking."

Nico tilted his head. "Death is different for me. For me, dying will be like . . . like going home after a long day."

"Oh really?" Will made the harsh, laughing sound again. He pressed his hands to the back of his neck and didn't meet Nico's eyes. "And for the rest of us?"

"Death for the dead is like slipping into a never ending dream. The only difference is if it's a good dream, a bad one, or just meaningless existence. For the living left behind when the ones they love are dead . . ."

"We get the really rotten end of the deal, huh?"

Nico frowned. "You've seen plenty of death before, Solace."

"So what, I'm just supposed to get used to it?" Will whirled around, and to Nico's surprise, his eyes were red rimmed and full of bright tears. "Is that what you do? You just . . . just pretend it doesn't matter?"

Will shook his head back and forth and sank to the floor, his hands clenching and unclenching, scratching against the wooden floorboards. "I can't . . . I can't do that! All these deaths, ever since I was little, and I couldn't help any of them! Do you know how many people that is? How many I've failed? I counted them up once. Three hundred and twenty seven. Three hundred and twenty seven people who died, because I couldn't do the one thing I'm good for. Even just in numbers, that's a lot. I can't even remember most of their names. I don't think I even _learned_ half their names."

He spat the words out like they were poison that needed to be leeched out, but it still wasn't enough. "Some of those were just random strangers, some were friends, but some of them were my own siblings! Lee, Fiona, Michael, Kasey, Ave Maria, Jonas, Cassandra, Lyra . . . So many of us died in the Titan War, but this time I though maybe, _maybe_ the gods would let us off the hook! The battle was so short, and there were so few casualties, and none of my brothers or sisters were badly hurt, and now . . ."

Will's voice cracked on the last word and his face seemed to crumple. "I'm just so _sick_ of this. Aria was only twelve; she wasn't supposed to be fighting! And now I'm just supposed not care that she'd dead? Because I've lost so many other siblings, it shouldn't matter anymore? I can't . . . I can't!"

And to Nico's horror, he threw himself into the son of Hades' lap and started to cry.

It took every bit of Nico's willpower not to dissolve into shadows.

Physical contact was _not_ on his bucket list, especially when the other person initiated it first and didn't ask permission, and _especially_ when they were crying and filled with darkness that tugged at the frayed edges his self-control.

"Solace!" Nico tried cringe away, but Will was heavy, his weight pressing on Nico's legs. "Dammit, Solace!"

"Waaaaaaahhh!"

Nico quickly realized the situation was spiraling from depressing to ridiculous at an alarming pace.

"Gods, Solace," he sighed. Somehow the other boy always managed to make a mess of things. His tears were rapidly soaking into Nico's freshly laundered shirt.

Nico had absolutely no idea what to do with him. Comforting his loving little sister with reassuring words and a kiss on the forehead came as naturally to him as could be expected, but this . . .

Will was _not_ his little sister.

Nico flinched and gritted his teeth as Will gripped his black shirt tightly. His shoulders were heaving with sobs, and Nico toyed with the idea of just knocking him out, or possibly throwing him in the Lethe.

Ugh. Other people were such a hassle.

But Nico couldn't stand to see Will cry.

Very, very carefully, he lifted one hand and tentatively rested it on Will's surprisingly narrow shoulder. The small touch seemed to shock Will so much he lifted his head to look Nico in the eye. His face was red and blotchy and wet with tears, but his iris' looked impossibly blue against his bloodshot eyes.

Nico looked flushed and awkward and faintly exasperated, and Will suddenly wanted very much to kiss him. But then Nico's expression mellowed out into something dark and thoughtful, and Will shivered as his hand lifted from his shoulder and accidentally brushed against the tip of his ear and tickled the ends of his hair.

Then Nico's fingertips grazed the heated skin on his cheek and temple, and Will stopped breathing. He wondered vaguely in the back of his mind if he was having a heart attack or maybe one of his lungs collapsed, or even possibly an allergic reaction was causing his throat to swell and cut off his air supply. But mostly he concentrated on that barely there touch, feather light and gentler than he would have ever expected from the son of Hades.

"It's not your fault."

Nico said it quietly and without infliction. And unlike every other time he had heard those words, from his family, from his friends, from himself, Will believed them. Because he believed Nico would tell him the harshest truth, if only because he didn't care enough to lie. Because Nico _knew_.

"Yeah," Will whispered. He closed his eyes and leaned forward to rest his head on Nico's chest. He tensed immediately, and Will felt a stab of guilt because he knew how Nico hated touching. But he was feeling selfish.

"Sorry," he muttered, not feeling particularly sorry at all.

"Hmph." Nico grunted and shifted uncomfortably. There was moment of tense, awkward silence that Will wished fervently would end. But that would probably include having to move, and that was something he just wasn't willing to do right then. Maybe in a minute. Or an hour. Or a day. Or never.

"I don't know if I'm used to it yet," Nico said finally.

"I'm sorry," Will told him. "I shouldn't have said that."

"You were right." Nico shrugged, as if that was a good enough reason to excuse him. "Death in general doesn't bother me. Most of the time I spend more time with people after they have died then when they were alive. I've only ever lost one person I really cared about. I don't know what would happen if I lost another."

"Who was it?" Will was afraid if he pressed Nico would shut down and disappear, but he was so very curious.

"My sister."

"Hazel?"

"Bianca. She is-_was_ my older sister on both sides, before I even knew about the gods. She was killed during a quest, one she had left on almost as soon as we had arrived at camp. I stayed behind, but I knew the second she died. I did everything I could to bring her back, but it was never enough."

"I didn't know you had another sister."

Nico hesitated. "I was . . . very angry at her for leaving me all alone. I didn't remember my mother and I didn't know my father, so for a very long time she was the only person I loved. And then she was gone. I'm still not used to _that_. But I haven't lost anybody else I really cared about, not really. I spend quite a lot of time and energy making sure of that."

"Which landed you in here," Will muttered.

"Mm. I could have planned it better."

There was another long, trailing moment of silence, but this one wasn't nearly so awkward. In the deadened stillness, Will could feel the faint rise and fall of Nico's chest as he breathed, heard the mute pulse of his heartbeat.

How long would that sound last? Nico had the attitude of someone with a deadly long term illness. Was it just his easy acceptance of death, or the fact that he always seemed to be on the verge of it himself?

Could someone so imbued with death ever be really alive? Nico walked through the world as a ghost, unaffected and unafraid. It made Will feel foolish for wanting to touch him.

"Will?"

Will froze, wondering if Nico had somehow heard his thoughts, or if he wanted to get up. And which one would be worse.

"I'm sorry about your sister."

Will swallowed, his mouth suddenly very dry. "Thanks."

"I killed her."

Will lifted his head. "What?"

"When I saw she couldn't be saved. The nectar wasn't helping, and she was in so much pain . . . Her death was right there, so I helped her let go. Like she was going to sleep." Nico looked hard at the floor, not wanting to see Will's face. But Will gripped his shirt tightly, his hands shaking.

"Wait. W-wait, so . . . she wasn't in pain? When she died? Really?"

Nico nodded stiffly.

"Oh." Will hung his head and took long, deep shuddering breaths. "Oh. Thank the gods. I thought . . . I couldn't do anything, and she was screaming so loudly . . . I thought she must h-hate me for that."

"She doesn't hate you," Nico said, still refusing to look at Will. "No one hates you. There isn't a single ghost who blames you for their death. They know . . . you did the best you could. And they're grateful for that."

Will gave a little choking laugh. Nico thought he might be crying again. "I'm not sure I believe you."

"I don't lie."

"Oh really? Not ever?"

"Not about this."

Will wasn't quite sure what he meant by 'this', but he didn't want to argue. Not when Nico was letting him inside his bubble of personal space without trying to kill him.

"How's your wrist?" Nico asked suddenly.

Will had almost forgotten about that. "Fine. I heal quickly. Didn't even need ambrosia. Healer hands."

"Sorry about that."

"Such a liar. No you're not."

"No, I'm not," Nico agreed. "You were being stupid."

"Well it takes one to know one, di Angelo."

"I don't sacrifice myself pointlessly."

"No, you don't care why you sacrifice yourself."

"And you do?"

"I don't want to die."

Nico didn't say anything, and Will wondered, with a stab of fear, if he had gone too far.

"I don't want to die," Nico repeated thoughtfully.

Will let out a long stream of air. He didn't want Nico to die either.

Nico shifted again. Will clutched his shirt tighter. "Can we just . . . stay here like this? Just for a little bit?"

"_Solace_."

"Please?" Will held his breath.

Nico made a huffy sound of dissent, but he didn't move.

Will breathed.

* * *

><p><strong>Yay! You made it through to the end! Now your prize - you get to leave a nice review in that box down there! Go crazy, people.<strong>


	4. Three Days: Third and Last Day

**Merry Christmas everyone! I didn't have time to write anything Christmassy, so take this as your present! Sorry about all the angst in the last chapter; there's a bit more fluff in this one.**

**PS they didn't have credit cards when Nico was born. I posted a tiny outtake in my oneshot story, Be Happy. Read it please!**

**The _Daddy's Favorite Haiku_ shirt was an idea stolen from TalysAlankil, who wrote the wonderful Solangelo fic A Bleak and Gloomy Sun. I pm'd her to ask permission, but she didn't answer, so I'm just going to take it anyway. Love you girl! All credits to her. Go read her fic. It's seriously cute. Update already! (Like I'm one to be talking.)**

**As usual, edited by AbbieDabbie, you wonderful girl you.**

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><p><strong>Spoiled<strong>

* * *

><p>If there was one thing Will was learning about Nico di Angelo, it was that underneath the hobo clothes, severe life deficiency and general emogoth/punkness, he was as spoiled and pampered as a little prince.

Only on a purely material level, of course. Will was _not_ going to comment on the obvious emotional and social neglect, because every time he did it made him want to punch the kid in the face.

And somehow, he didn't think that would go over well.

Not that he thought it was entirely Nico's fault. The kid may have risen 'rejecting all things warm, good, wholesome and _living_' to an art form, but nobody was born like that. Not completely. He hoped.

Will wished he knew more about Nico. He wished he knew where he grew up, what his mom was like, whether or not he got along with his dad, his relationship with his sister. He wanted to know how he became friends with Percy, Annabeth, Reyna, Jason, Piper and Frank, whether he liked chocolate or vanilla ice cream, whether he liked ice cream at all . . .

But this was Nico di Angelo he was talking about. There were only so many random questions Will could ask (in the few moments they were both awake) before he got shut down. The kid spoke so rarely that he had to listen carefully to the few words he did utter, memorize them and store them away for future use.

One of those was the sentence –"For my fourteenth birthday, my dad gave me a French zombie chauffeur."

Which was when Will started to realize Nico had certain privileges even other demigods could only dream of.

It was all because of Will's shirt. He liked any shirt with a funny picture or saying, but one of his favorites was a dark green tank top that said 'Daddy's favorite haiku,' in pink cursive, which he paired with swim shorts, penny loafers and a lab coat.

"I've met your dad," Nico had stated, the second Will had walked in. "That is _not_ a complement."

"When did you meet my dad?" Will asked in confusion.

Nico shrugged and selected several fries from the bag Will had brought along with a juicy cheeseburger (rare) from the Dining Pavilion. "He gave us a ride when Percy screwed up trying to bring me to camp." Nico frowned as he remembered. "He didn't let me drive."

Will was ninety nine percent sure that wasn't even close to the whole story, but he let it go. For the time being.

"It was a birthday present, so shut up."

Nico paused in licking the salt from his fingers. "For my fourteenth birthday, my dad gave me a French zombie chauffeur. So there."

He stuck his tongue out childishly.

Will couldn't help but stare. Nico was all black and white and varying shades of grey. It was odd to see the bit of curling pink against his pale, pale skin.

"What are you doing?"

Will dragged his eyes away from Nico's mouth and shook his head. "Sorry. What was that?"

"Why were you staring at me like that?"

"No reason," Will said quickly. "Just . . . spaced out." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Hmph. Please don't." Will might have been imagining things, but he thought Nico looked a bit embarrassed as well.

"So," he coughed. "You were saying, about your dead French chauffeur?"

"Yeah. His name is Jules-Albert."

Will's mouth twitched. "Of course it is."

Nico ignored him.

"He died in the late eighteen hundreds. He was a motorcar racer in Paris, and now he drives me around whenever I need him to."

"Dare I ask what happens if you don't get shotgun?" said Will delicately.

"Nope."

"Right." Will made a little mark in Nico's patient file. _Note - Patient HotAsHades has zombie servants. Must utilize if at all possible. Zombie bath attendants? Consider carefully._

"Any other deadly pets I should know about?"

Nico grinned.

And that was how Will Solace found himself with nothing but a window between him and a giant, slobbering hellhound.

"Holy cattle of the sun!" Will staggered back and almost tripped over another bed. Nico looked ridiculously pleased with himself.

"This is Mrs. O'Leary," he said calmly. "She used to be Daedelus's, but then I killed him, so Beckendorf was taking care of her. Now that he's dead, Percy is supposed to be her owner, but . . ." he shrugged. "I'm in a better position to take care of a hellhound than he is. And Mrs. O'Leary gets along great with Cerberus."

He looked at Will amusedly. "She won't attack unless you give her a reason to. She's actually quite friendly." He tilted his head a little. "Are you okay?"

"I'm . . . fine. Just surprised." Will pressed two fingers to his neck to feel his own pulse and glanced at his watch. It was racing.

When he turned back, Will had already opened his mouth and was fully prepared to start lecturing about the dangers of giving your doctor a heart attack, but Nico wasn't even looking at him. He was kneeling on the bed with his hands pressed against the glass, Mrs. O'Leary's giant head and lolling tongue right outside.

Nico held up one hand and the hellhound immediately sat back on its haunches with a loud _thump_. The ground trembled.

"Good girl," Nico whispered. He looked over at Will, who sure he didn't _mean_ to have such a pleading expression in his big brown eyes, but that was how it came across. Or maybe Will was just going crazy. He was starting to think that might be the case.

"Oh _fine_," he muttered. "I suppose you can go outside for a few minutes. And _only_ a few minutes, di Angelo, you hear me?"

Nico didn't even answer as he raced out the door. Will followed, muttering darkly to himself.

Outside, Nico sat on the infirmary steps and Mrs. O'Leary plopped herself down next to him and rested her giant furry head in his lap. Nico stroked her shaggy head and scratched her gently right behind her left ear – exactly the way she liked it.

The scene was so **normal**, Will wanted to laugh. _'If dogs are man's best friend,'_ he thought, _'I suppose hellhounds are the same to princes of the Underworld.'_

"Do you want to pet her?" Nico was looking at him with his usual bored-bordering-on-grumpy expression, but Will thought he detected a bit of wariness. Did he think Will would refuse?

In answer, Will reached out and rubbed the dog's nose, the way Deffer, his golden retriever back home liked. Mrs. O'Leary panted happily.

Nico looked satisfied. There was a dead leaf in his hair, no doubt shaken from Mrs. O'Leary's coat. Will reached out to brush it away -

- And found himself flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him and a growling hellhound's paw pressing him into the ground.

"_NO, _Mrs_._ O'Leary! Bad dog!" Nico, by some superhuman effort, managed to drag the hellhound off Will, leaving him to curl into a wheezing ball. As Nico got a hold on her collar -patterned, of course, with skulls and crossbones- Will caught sight of the dog tag attached to it.

_Mrs. O'Leary. Hellhound. If found, please call the Underworld at xxx-xxx-xxxx or Percy Jackson, Upstate New York, at xxx-xxx-xxxx or Camp Half-Blood, Long Island at xxx-xxx-xxxx, or Tyson, Underwater Cyclopes Forges, xxx-xxx-xxxx._

If Will had had any air in his lungs, he would have laughed.

"Stupid dog. Mrs. O'Leary, fetch!" Nico summoned a femur bone from the ground at his feet and threw it as far as he could. It landed somewhere at the edge of the forest, and Mrs. O'Leary bounded after it.

"Sorry about that," he said. He didn't offer to help as Will staggered to his feet.

"'M fine," Will sighed, rubbing his sternum. Looking over at Nico, he saw he had one hand on his bony hip and was looking after his pet monster with an expression that was half annoyed, half amused.

It was so _weird_, seeing him outside, completely in the sunshine and fresh camp air, not wrapped in blankets and mostly asleep, or in battle gear and mostly dead. He had left his sword inside the infirmary, and was only wearing a thin, long black shirt and sweatpants. His feet were bare, and even paler than the rest of him. He looked relaxed and almost at ease, instead of angry and fighting, shrinking away from the light.

Unconcerned with a current war or a large crowd of people, Nico seemed to hold himself with certain quiet, slouching confidence. Will had to wonder if it came naturally, or was packaged with the knowledge that even without his sword he could easily take on anything or anyone that was stupid enough to bother him, and win without expanding too much effort.

Will had the sudden urge to close the yards between them, to crush Nico's personal space, to wrap his arms around the thin, black clothed body and kiss him.

"Were you trying to touch me?"

"Huh?" Will snapped out of his mental musings to see Nico glaring at him suspiciously. Will swallowed, feeling very hot. "Oh, uhh . . . you just . . ." he gestured to his own head. " . . . had a leaf."

Nico ran a hand through his hair, dislodging the dead leaf. It fluttered to the ground in disappointment. Will knew how it felt.

"So," he said, trying to shake the image of running his own hand through Nico's dark hair, from his mind. "French zombie attendants, giant pet hellhound . . . anything else?"

Nico tapped his chin with one long white finger. "Well, I do have a litter of skeleton kittens that can turn into saber tooth tigers. And there's Cerberus, of course. I can also summon just about any ghost/spirit or skeleton (zombies are harder, because they are a little of both) either from the Underworld or if they are just wandering around . . . oh, a couple years back Percy brought some skeleton monsters derived from drakon teeth to camp and I banished them under the earth, but after the last war I found them again and trained them up a bit."

"Really?" said Will faintly.

Nico nodded. "I named them Marley, Mo, Matt and Max. Frank had one too, at some point, and he came down to the Underworld when his contract was up. His name is Gray. Frank isn't very imaginative."

"Ah."

Will must have been making an odd expression, because Nico suddenly looked away uncomfortably, as if he thought he might have said too much.

"Whatever," he said coldly. "If you're going to freak out, warn me before you do so I can tell someone where to find your body."

"I'm not . . . going to freak out," Will said through gritted teeth.

Nico made a sound of disbelief.

"Oh stop acting so misunderstood," Will snapped. "It just . . . _jeez_ Nico." He slumped onto the infirmary steps and held his head in his hands.

Nico frowned down at him, looking frustrated. "Just _what_, Solace?"

Will raised his head suddenly and stared at him long and hard.

"Do you ever go shopping?"

"What?"

"Shopping, di Angelo. You know, at a store, or the mall, someplace you go to buy clothes and stuff."

"Of course not," Nico said, deeply offended. "If I need something, I can just send someone to get it."

"What if you're just walking along and you see something in a window that you like. What do you do?"

"Um, get it? I mean, if I'm not too tired I can just shadow travel it to me without setting off any alarms, but sometimes I'll actually buy it."

"And money?"

Nico snorted. "My dad is the god or riches. Money isn't exactly a problem. Plus I still have my card from the Lotus Hotel and Casino . . ."

Will ignored that. He'd hear that story later. "Food?"

"I can put anything I want on my dad's tab at McDonald's."

Will was momentarily distracted. "The Lord of the Underworld has a McDonald's tab?"

Nico looked smug. "He does now." His expression turned thoughtful. "I can buy, steal, or steal from Percy. His mom makes these really delicious blue chocolate chip cookies. They can never figure out why they never last more than a day, even though Percy swears he doesn't _all_ of them."

Will shook his head in disbelief. "Nico, I don't know how to tell you this."

"For the gods sakes, Solace, _what_?"

Will looked at him gravely. "You're a credit card kid."

"A what?"

"A rich brat whose parents throw around money instead of actually taking the time to do their job."

For some reason, Nico didn't seem that insulted. "That kind of makes sense. My dad was paying for school tuition through a bank account before I even knew who he was."

Mrs. O'Leary came trotting back and dumped the remains of the bone at Nico's feet. He made a face at the slobbery mess and told Mrs. O'Leary to lie down. She did, with a great huffy sigh that smelled like pizza.

Nico scratched her back and she wagged her tail in happiness. Will watched them a little ruefully. Such a twisted sense of normal.

"Hey, Nico?"

"Hmm?"

"When you're all better, I want to meet all your pets, 'kay?"

Nico looked at him incredulously. "Are you kidding?"

Will laughed. "Nope. I want to meet the skeleton cats and Moses and Marvy and the other guys. Promise, okay?"

"I don't . . ." Nico looked like he had no idea how to respond to that. "I . . . sure."

Will smiled at him happily, and Nico had to look away. He buried his face in the silky fur on Mrs. O'Leary's neck.

"Hey Will?"

"Hmm?"

"What's a credit card?"

* * *

><p><strong>Temperature<strong>

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><p>"This is ridiculous," Nico grumbled around the thermometer.<p>

"Standard procedure," Will told him. "No talking."

After almost three days in the infirmary, Nico was completely, 110% solid. His pulse, breathing and heartbeat were almost normal, the werewolf wounds had healed nicely, his reflexes were good and he had stopped feeling dizzy every time he did some small shadow magic.

And then he started shivering.

And Will _flipped out_.

Now he took the thermometer and pressed the back of his hand to the tip of Nico's nose. "Frozen," he muttered. He squinted at the thermometer.

"NINETY SIX!?"

_"Uh oh," _Nico thought, leaning away from the son of Apollo.

"WHAT THE _ACTUAL_ HADES, DI ANGELO!? WHAT IS THIS!? YOU'RE TWO DEGREES UNDER!"

"Wow," Nico muttered. "Two whole degrees."

"Shut up!" Will threw the thermometer at him. It went three feet over Nico's head; he didn't even bother to dodge. "Do you know what happens when your temperature drops below normal!?"

"Umm . . ."

"Ninety eight point six is normal. At ninety seven and ninety six you start shivering. From ninety three to ninety five, your emotions go haywire! From ninety one-"

Nico shoved a pillow in his face. "I get it, I get it. Thank you, Dr. Frozen."

Suddenly he was enveloped in a thick blanket. By the time he had struggled free of it, Will was ripping all the sheets and blankets from the empty beds. He then promptly dumped them all on top of Nico's head.

"Solace!"

"Stop squirming," Will scolded him. "We have to get you warm."

"Can you please do that without suffocating me?"

Will vanished for a few minutes, and then reappeared dragging a large bronze brazier. Nico wrapped himself in a few of the blankets like a thick, layered cloak and curled up underneath as Will lit a special no-smoke fire in the brazier and set it next to Nico's bed.

"This is ridiculous," Nico repeated.

"Sorry Death Boy, Doctor's orders." Will held out a mug of hot nectar. "Drink up."

Nico made a face. "No way."

"Way. You need it, unless you want to turn into a Nico popsicle."

"I take unicorn draught ten times a day, I eat everything you give me – including, by the way, some seriously nasty medicine, and yes, I'm talking about the gum - I let you poke me and prod me and stick me like a piñata, _and _I've taken at least a gallon of nectar already, even though I told you it doesn't work! If I drink that, I'll burst into flames!"

"Then at least you'll be warm." Will held the mug out pointedly. Nico took it reluctantly and sipped.

He stuck his tongue out. "It tastes like hot ash."

Will frowned. "It's not supposed to."

"Yes, I realize that."

"How long has this been going on? It's not just right now, is it?" Will looked at the nectar as if he was accusing it of trickery.

"It started at some point when I was carrying the Athena Parthenos. Nectar and ambrosia haven't worked on me very well since then."

"Nico!" Will looked horrified. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Nico shrugged.

"Ugh." Will slumped forward and banged his head on Nico's knee. "You're killing me, Death Boy. You're really killing me."

_"I'm sorry,"_ Nico thought.

Will didn't move, his head still resting on Nico's leg, and after a minute it started to make Nico uncomfortable.

"Will?"

Will mumbled something indistinguishable about heating blankets and didn't move.

Nico was getting annoyed now. "_Will_."

When Will still didn't move, Nico entertained the idea of kicking him in the head. Not that he'd feel it through that thick skull of his. Will was heavier than he looked, and Nico's leg was starting to fall asleep.

Ugh. Nico glared at the top of Will's head. Stubborn blonde git.

Nico actually _did_ know what happened when your body temperature went below normal. He finished Will's rant in his head:

_From ninety one to ninety two, you lose control over your muscles and they stiffen up._

_From ninety to eighty nine, you lose all memory capability._

_If you get down to eighty six, you lose consciousness._

_And then you're gone._

Nico didn't think he was cold. In fact, he was pretty sure ninety six was the warmest he'd been since Bianca died. Since he'd started spending most of his time underground, where it wasn't exactly a friendly environment for warm-blooded creatures. Since he'd rejected human contact and anything even marginally comforting. His body temperature, heart rate, blood pressure and whatever else it was making Will look like he'd sucked on a lemon, could all be attributed to his poor lifestyle, but Nico preferred to think that maybe it was just a part of being a child of the Underworld. He was still functioning, wasn't he? He was used to the cold. Gotten numb to it. The shivering was probably from being so _close_ to a normal temperature, not so _far_.

Will's head was warm on his leg. Nico could count on one hand how many times he'd been touched in the last few days, but none of them had been this long. His leg was tingling with pins and needles.

Without thinking, Nico reached over and placed his hand lightly on Will's shaggy blonde head. Will turned to look at him with a soft, confused expression.

"Nico?"

Nico ran his hand through Will's hair. It felt dry and soft.

"You know," he said thoughtfully. "You're very warm."

Will turned pink, and neither of them moved.

* * *

><p><strong>Favorite<strong>

* * *

><p>"I'm leaving tomorrow," Nico said. He looked at Will curiously. "You do realize that, don't you?"<p>

Will seemed to freeze for a second, but then he resumed sorting through his various bottles and boxes of mortal medicine. They were only things like aspirin and cough syrup, but supplies were running low and it was still allergy season.

"Yeah, 'course. Three days was the agreement, right?"

He glanced at Nico out of the corner of his eye. Nico pretended not to notice. They had been having a fairly random conversation about some of the arguments Will had been involved in settling, which had led to Will explaining the giant fight between the Apollo and Ares cabin's a few years ago. Will had suggested, somewhat out of the blue, that it would be better for Nico to get some sunlight closer to the source, and maybe he, Will, would take him up in their flying chariot sometime in the next few days.

Having arranged all the packaged medicine in rainbow order, Will stood up and stretched, lifting his arms over his head and sighing happily as his spine popped into place.

"You've been my favorite, you know," he said casually, leaning against the doorjamb. "My favorite patient."

"Oh?" Nico was sitting cross legged in the middle of his bed wrapped in sheets like one of those lame ghost costumes. The sheet was slipping of his head so half his face was uncovered. His dark hair was sticking up all over the place like a baby bird fluff and a single dark eye peered out at Will cautiously.

Will knew that technically, he wasn't cute. He knew that the only reason he thought so was because he liked Nico, and that any unbiased stranger basing their opinions on looks alone would think him a lunatic.

But he wasn't a stranger and he was very much biased, and to him, Nico looked – for lack of a better word – adorable. Adorable and fourteen, much like how he looked when he was asleep.

Although when he was asleep, he couldn't look at Will with those piercing eyes that were constantly giving Will arrhythmias and made him want to search every darkened nook and cranny inside that boy's head to find out what was going on in there.

"What, you don't believe me?" Will grinned at him lazily.

Nico tilted his head consideringly.

"Nope."

"Well." Will deflated a bit. "That's not very nice."

"I'm not a very nice person."

"Hmph. Well it's true." He set his jaw as if readying for an argument. "You're my favorite."

Nico just looked at him, and Will couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Why?"

"Oh, come on!" Will was grinning again. Nico found it disconcerting. "Because you only made . . . what, like three escape attempts? And you only almost killed me once. That's a personal record for me."

"I though about it a lot more," Nico confessed. He tugged the sheet completely over his head, tunneling his vision so Will could only see wisps of dark hair pressed against his forehead and two dark, heavy lidded eyes that glittered with some unknown emotion.

Will let his head fall back against the doorjamb with a low _thunk_. "It's twilight."

"Mmm." Nico closed his eyes, but Will knew he wasn't asleep. It was twilight. Those few minutes between night and day had become his favorite time over the last three days. It was the only time when Nico would stop sleeping at every interval he got, and was right before Will usually retired with his Apollo siblings. The only time they were both fully awake and able to talk.

Outside, the sunlight turned rich and gold, and the shadows grew long. To the east, the sky was dark and scattered with stars, while to the west it still glowed fiery red and gold. Campers trailed away from the dining pavilion in twos and threes, sated and full, and looking forward to that evening's campfire.

"You aren't going with them?" Nico asked quietly. The past few days Will had brought him food after eating dinner himself, sat with Nico until it got dark, and then headed out to the campfire himself. Nico had savored that half an hour when everybody was busy. What with over-friendly visitors, and just being in the infirmary, and _Will_, he had had barely a moment to breathe unless he was asleep. It was almost nice, having the people he cared about around all the time, but at the same time – overwhelming.

"No," Will said.

But that night was different.

It was different in that Nico didn't respond automatically with hostility and cutting remarks. Different in that neither of them made to hurry along the sun, to sleep, to loneliness, to a new day. Different in the way Will looked at him, with a kind of languid, wistful sadness that lingered around the corners of his smile. Different, in that it was their last twilight.

"You know," Will said suddenly, "This doesn't mean you can get away with never seeing me again. I'm not letting you get away that easily." He stared at Nico fiercely as if he could make him understand that by sheer willpower alone.

Nico tilted his head back and let the sheet fall away from his face. He felt slow and lethargic, but wide awake. The warm, buttery sunlight on his face made his skin tingle and relax.

"Yeah." His mouth tilted up ever so slightly into a smile. "I know."

The room filled with their bodies and breaths, with lengthening shadows and golden sunlight.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading and Merry Christmas!<strong>


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